Starrider
by BitterSweetTeller
Summary: Several years ago, two crews were taken for a ride on a passing star…not knowing when home would be sighted at last. But through years of light and darkness, they have become more than Voyager's crew: They've become a family. Their journey home continues: In their own recollections. Set after Eclipse. Rated Teen for suggestive content and at least some action.
1. Starrider: Foreword

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

Foreword:

Side Notes: If you haven't read my fanfiction Eclipse, please do before reading this oneshot fanfiction collection. It'll make more sense this way, since this is a sequel tie-in to Eclipse.

This fanfiction collection also showcases alternate Season 6 and Season 7 episodes…in light of Eclipse being set in early Season 6. The oneshot fanfictions in this collection are purposely titled after Season 6 and Season 7 episodes for easier comprehension. Any Season 6 or Season 7 episodes that aren't featured would have minor changes, if any. If you haven't seen or read about a mainstream Season 6 or Season 7 episode featured here, please do before reading the alternate version of that episode here. It'll make more sense this way, because everything about that mainstream episode may very well not be covered here.

There are some episodes that are not included in this continuity. But, in Eclipse and in this fanfiction collection, I have done my best to keep the good points of those episodes intact as best I can. The non-canon episodes of this continuity are Thinker Tenor Doctor Spy, Barge of the Dead, Riddles, Imperfection, and Author Author.

Twenty six years into a possible future, in San Francisco…

Looking out to the mostly dark green Borg like city lights…is a Main Universe Admiral Janeway. The dimly lit house looks very 90's sitcom like: Strikingly similar to a pale white house, where the EMH Doctor had his holographic family. Beyond is the darkness of night. Her hair is medium length, but interestingly with only a grayish streak across the sides. Admiral Janeway's eyes though have a very aged look to them: Flashes of the Borg, exploding Borg Cubes, and the Borg Queen going by. She sighs heavily, like she hasn't slept in years.

Admiral Janeway then hears a beeping at the door. She mutters under her breath, "come in." She presses a black button on her dress uniform sleeve: Unlocking the door. Admiral Janeway doesn't even turn her head, as the EMH Doctor comes in. He sighs heavily, "Kathryn, I… I don't mean to sound insensitive. But, it's been fourteen years since we got back to the Alpha Quadrant. Can't you be more thankful for accomplishing that?" Admiral Janeway turns to him coldly, "Was Seven? When she died? Was Samantha? I just… Heavy sigh! I just need some alone time. Ok?"

The EMH Doctor mutters back, "goddamnit! There's always some "more alone time" with you. Are you just trying to shut me out?!" Admiral Janeway sadly sighs, "Kenneth, I… I'm so sorry." She hugs him, crying over his shoulder. Teary eyed himself, the EMH Doctor sighs heavily, "it's ok. Just let it all out."

After for who knows how long, they separate. Admiral Janeway sniffles, "thank you. I…guess part of me is still out there: In the Delta Quadrant. The good old days…when we were all together." The EMH Doctor slightly chuckles nervously, "now that, I can provide." Admiral Janeway wipes her tears away. She looks at him incredulously, as though she just died and gone to heaven. Admiral Janeway wonders, "how?" The EMH Doctor figures, "the Holodeck. It may be holographic projections. But then again, I am also a holographic projection."

Admiral Janeway slightly chuckles, briefly kissing him. She insists, "no, Kenneth: You're much more than that. For years out in the Delta Quadrant, you've kept me together. This is no different." The EMH Doctor slightly sighs, "I should hope I have: As your husband, and your doctor. But, this is different: You're letting yourself get better." Admiral Janeway figures bittersweetly, "well, it's not easy. But, I'm up to the challenge." The EMH Doctor leads on, "shall we begin down memory lane?" Admiral Janeway slightly chuckles, "let's." She and the EMH Doctor head into a holodeck: Past a white 90's styled couch, in the darkness of the night.


	2. Season 6: Alice

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

Alice:

On the USS Voyager, from Tom Paris's Quarters…

Personal log, Stardate 53064... Moderate sigh. What hour is it? Ohh…kay. Stardate 53066.0468. Good to hear my own thoughts…to myself. Slight uneasy chuckle. It's funny. With B'Elanna, it's been no sweat: When we're not arguing, the dust clears…and it's all right to leave the bomb shelter. Then… Alice. If there was anyone…anything…that could sink the Titanic just by looking at it… It'd be Alice. And boy, did I sink! Heavy sigh. All right. Keep it together, Tom. Just…let it all out. Where was I? Ohh. Right.

B'Elanna forgave me: Which is more than I can say for myself right now. But, it's the thought that counts. Frankly though…I wasn't thinking. Now, my head is still spinning: Thinking about the stars, trying not to think… But, I need to run it through. I need to…understand where I went wrong. Well…first… We came across a junkyard…but it sure gave Tuvok a scare. Slight chuckle. Well, maybe under his uniform. It was Abaddon's Repository of Lost Treasures.

The Captain wanted to see if we could acquire nine intact warp core components. Maybe even have two new warp cores to increase our thrust. It was a good idea. But, most of their warp coils were too run down to work at all. Then the Captain left Chakotay to the bargaining…and stepped down for the whole thing. Slight nervous chuckle. I didn't get what she was getting so worked up about. But, looking back…it reminds me of what I'm doing now. Mainly…trying not to think. Among the treasures of "Shipyards Past"…one "called" to me. Hell, it was calling to everyone! Well, almost everyone.

In Tom Paris's eyes…

In the conference room, Tom Paris and B'Elanna are looking in Chakotay's direction: A little nervous. Tuvok, Neelix, Chakotay, and Harry Kim are there too. Harry Kim looks somewhat unenthusiastic. Somewhat awkwardly, Chakotay has been going over inventory, "Looks like a good haul. If that's it?" Neelix figures, "ohh…yes. There is one other item. A small vessel that could be an asset."

Interestingly, Tuvok adds, "of a personal nature, I might add." Chakotay slightly chuckles nervously, "why do I get the feeling I'm the last one to know about this?" B'Elanna comments, "word has a way of…getting around on this ship." Chakotay moderately sighs, "all right. If you think restoring a derelict ship here is worth it… Let's hear it." B'Elanna slightly chuckles nervously, "actually…it's Tom's idea. But, it could be good for the Captain: Good enough to get us all home a lot faster, if it works."

More seriously, Chakotay says, "I get the picture. Tom… I appreciate your initiative as Lieutenant Commander. But, we already got the Delta Flyer. Are you sure you're not just looking for a new toy?" Tom Paris slightly chuckles, "positive. Chakotay, this ship is a diamond in the rough! Sure, it's got some scrapes and scratches… But, here: Take a look at these systems." On the side computer, he shows a mostly dark blue schematic: Of a worn out light green striped shuttle, with wings shaped like nuclear warheads.

Tom Paris pinpoints, "it has a neurogenic interface that allows it to react directly to the pilot's thoughts. That gives it the potential of being quicker and more maneuverable than anything we've got." Neelix adds, "add to that an optronic weapons array." In consideration, Chakotay slightly nods, "maybe we can restore it. But, how would that help us get home?" Tom Paris reasons, "glad you asked. Remember when we tried the Quantum Slipstream Drive?"

Chakotay reasons, "of course I do: It didn't work." Harry Kim points out, "and the phase corrections were nearly impossible to calculate: Fifteen years from the future, as I recall." Tom Paris reasons, "true. But that was the old future, Harry. This is the new future…and it has Slipstream written all over it."

Chakotay, B'Elanna, and Neelix slightly chuckle. Sounding wary, Harry Kim figures, "still… Moderate sigh. I'd just like to go on record here as the only senior officer here that thinks this is just asking for us to be screwed over." Chakotay figures, "your concern is noted, Harry." B'Elanna adds sarcastically, "unless of course, you come through for us in the future." Harry Kim slightly chuckles nervously, "thanks…I think." Chakotay slightly smiles, "Tuvok. I know you and the Captain are close friends. But in your own opinion…do you think we can upgrade Voyager with this neurogenic interface?"

Tuvok figures outright, "I believe so, Commander. But logically, I wouldn't be considering the possibility without a strong degree of logic." Chakotay concludes, "no: Of course not. This won't cost us too much, I hope?" Neelix reasons, "no, it won't. Abaddon's agreed to give it to us for three used power cells and Tom's interactive record collection." Tom Paris corrects, "my jukebox."

Chakotay slightly chuckles, "all right. It's your project, Tom." Tom Paris concludes cheerfully, "yes! I mean…thanks. You won't regret it." They start to head out of the conference room. Chakotay slightly chuckles, "but, on one condition." Tom Paris turns back, "sure: Name it." B'Elanna slightly pauses. Chakotay figures, "you keep it a surprise for the Captain: If it works." Tom Paris shakes on it, "it's a deal." B'Elanna slightly smiles, leaving the conference room.

From Tom Paris's Quarters…

Yeah. Maybe I was a little too excited. But, so were we with Slipstream. And yet…we became ten years closer to home for our troubles. Plus, I got to run the project. It was like being Captain Proton…only without the holodeck. Slight chuckle. Or at least, I thought it'd be. I tried to get B'Elanna onboard. She said it was sweet, but not possible. Something about power regulators.

Harry didn't want anything to do with Alice. Seven turned me down, saying we might as well "hand ourselves over to the Borg". I didn't think she could get any madder. But shit, was she furious! Moderate sigh. Guess Seven's head is still spinning from her newfound emotions. My head was spinning, just to figure out who to have onboard. I absolutely didn't want to press my luck…like I did with Seven. So, oddly enough, I asked Xana. And she was thrilled already. So, I left it at that. That leaves the score… Seven-Hating-My-Guts: 3. Tom-Paris-Saving-Our-Asses-By-The-Seat-Of-His-Pants: Infinity…minus 3.

Because…Seven turned out to be absolutely right. Even from the beginning… Hard sigh! Even from the beginning…Alice didn't just sink me: She was the Titanic of shuttles.

In Tom Paris's eyes…

In Shuttle Bay 2, Tom Paris is at the back of the worn out light green striped shuttle: Scanning it with a tricorder. Some cobwebs were over the windshield. Other than that, just several months of dust. Xana is just outside, scanning the outmost back part. With no Beta Squad mission at the time, she was able to get Vyoir's special tricorder. Tom Paris sighs, "I still can't get an active readout." Xana realizes, "ohh. Here's why, Tom: Another power cell down the drain."

Tom Paris sighs over the fluctuating sensors readout. He mutters to himself, "come on Alice! How about it, huh? Give us a break." Xana is getting out another power cell to try. She muses in amusement, "didn't know you knew each other." Tom Paris slightly chuckles, "not exactly, Xana. But…there was a Alice Battisti. I knew her back in the Academy. She was smart, sexy, had great boobs… Slight sigh. But, she wouldn't give me the time of day."

Xana figures, "if we were in the Academy together…I would have. But, you have B'Elanna now." A little taken aback, Tom Paris figures, "you're not by any chance in love with me…are you?" Xana chuckles, "no. You'd know if I was. Try it again." Tom Paris turns on the sensors readout, "I've got a pulse." Xana wonders, "is it a good pulse?" She comes in to look.

Tom Paris concludes, "yeah. As Seven might say, an efficient design. Umm… This may not be my place to say. But…is she still mad?" Xana concludes, "it's…a learning curve for her too: The Agony Stimulator. But, carry a big phaser." Tom Paris moderately sighs, "great. Just great." Xana adds, "yeah." Tom Paris concludes, "on the bright side though…the main computer's online."

From Tom Paris's Quarters…

I can just hear Harry now: How about The Lost Cause? But the neurogenic interface… It was…like flying forever. Only, I was still on the ground. But the worst part...the very worst part is… Alice…was alive. Hell, she even looked like Alice Battisti! I was the only one that could see her, because of the neurogenic interface. And even when I tried to introduce Alice to Xana…to B'Elanna… They thought I was joking. They didn't think to scan me: They scanned everything else. But, as the hours went on… Moderate sigh. That's all I was caring about: That I could see her. I started wearing a flight suit Alice recommended. I started working on Alice, nonstop. I wasn't eating. I wasn't sleeping. But, I felt great.

I didn't even join Harry on the holodeck for The Web of Pain. Xana…was attacked. And, I wasn't there. One late night, the optronic weapons array went online. And if it wasn't for the Doctor…Xana would be dead. The optronic pulse disabled her heart: Almost permanently. She was in a coma for two days…because of Alice. That's when everyone else started to get suspicious. But, no one else was in Shuttle Bay 2: So, how could they know? Sob. Why couldn't I? Why…couldn't...I?!

In Tom Paris's eyes…

In his Quarters, Tom Paris looks terribly half asleep. He looks dirty all over. He wore a very dark blue flight suit: The same one specially designed for Alice that Alice herself recommended. Facing him is Gryzil…very concerningly so. Gryzil moderately sighs, "Tom… I know how hard it can be: Coming back to dock." Tom Paris wonders irritatedly, "what are you driving at?"

In his head, Alice mutters, "what does it look like, Tom? If they discover me, they'll think you're crazy! But, you're not crazy: You're brilliant. They're just too caught up in protocol to truly care about you...like I do." Gryzil deduces, "your sanity. Chakotay…Seven…B'Elanna… Everyone is worried about you. You've been neglecting everything but Alice: Your friends, B'Elanna, shaving…"

Sounding defeated, Tom Paris sighs heavily, "you're…absolutely right. I'll turn in early...clear my head. Sort it out in the morning."

Alice whispers softly, "Tom... You're not neglecting anyone. Everyone on this ship, with their rules and regulations… They're all part of a society that doesn't truly understand freedom. They deny themselves true freedom." Gryzil figures, "good to hear. But…moderate sigh. There's two things I should tell you. And, there's no easy way to." Very unsure, Tom Paris figures, "ok." Teary eyed, Alice insists, "please…don't listen to him! I care for them too. But velocity, freedom…they'll never understand these things the way we do."

Gryzil informs Tom Paris, "Xana…was attacked last night." Tom Paris looks wide eyed, "what?! How?" Gryzil sighs heavily, "I don't know, Tom. None of us do. But, she is alive: In a coma, but alive." Quite shaken, Tom Paris says, "good. Any theories?" Gryzil figures, "well, we think it has something to do with Alice. With all of Alice's advanced systems though, there's bound to be something we're not detecting. Slight chuckle. Wouldn't be surprised by a few loose wires or two. Some members of Beta Squad are already on their way back to Abaddon...to see if he can help us figure out what happened." Tom Paris slightly nods, "least that's something. What's the second?"

Gryzil says, "heavy sigh. Chakotay wants to put the project on hold: Until the investigation is complete. I'm sorry. Flight suit…please." Alice whispers harshly, "what did I tell you?! Hard sigh. I know this is hard for you. But…silence him. You belong with me. Not with them." Tom Paris is looking down at the floor, torn between voices.

He sighs heavily under his breath, "no: I'm sorry." Tom Paris takes out his phaser, stunning a shocked Gryzil to the floor. Tom Paris looks stunned himself. He moderately sighs, "I'm sorry…Alice." Alice says, "it's ok, Tom. It's ok. But, it won't be long before Security comes for us."

Tom Paris concludes, "well, maybe we should've thought of that!" He runs out of his Quarters. Alice says, "I have, Tom. I'll tell you on the way." Tom Paris wonders uneasily, "to where?" Alice slightly chuckles, "to me." Tuvok and Kellin aren't far behind, back down the corridor.

From Tom Paris's Quarters…

So, yeah: I was sinking fast. It all happened so fast. I couldn't believe it was more than just a dream. A very shitty dream at that. Alice just needed to "temporarily" compromise Voyager's systems…and we'd have just enough time to finish repairing Alice's systems and escape. We barely got to Shuttle Bay 2, and shut the door on Security. Then I manually connected Alice to the shuttle bay itself. And through our completed interface…we took over Voyager. Yes: Took…over Voyager. I could not dream this shit up.

It was, in every sense, Seven's nightmare come true. We…were one. The ship…was one with us. Voyager's environmental systems were taken offline. All the systems were: Only the transporters weren't. We could beam in anything from Voyager's backup systems to repair Alice's systems. Alice assured me it was just Shuttle Bay 2 that was affected: For our own protection. We continued working. But…moderate sigh…I had no good reason. The lights went off. Mariah Henley and Ayala made it just in time to beam to the Bridge, and get environmental systems online. They forced them on: With phasers.

I didn't see it all at the time…but I could hear their voices: All of them, throughout the ship. Bits and parts of those voices are still echoing in me: All one hundred nineteen of them. Of fear. Of unspoken hurt. Of sudden understanding of what Alice truly was from beyond the shipyard grave. And as we took off for what Alice called "home"… The voices became too painful to bear. I saw it all… Sob. The pain and the hurt…of those one hundred nineteen crewmen.

In Tom Paris's eyes…

Hundreds of sensor readings flash around before his eyes: Of every deck on Voyager. Voyager's sensor data swirls in a electron soup. Holographically glowing crewmembers whirl with the subtlety of a jackhammer. Most of them are either coughing violently for air or aching all over. Their voices replay on and on, in sickly computer memory shards:

Power fluctuation's down to four point seven…fifty point…! Captain, phaser fire has been detected in… What the hell?! Kellin to the Bridge…! We're losing life support! It's Alice: I don't understand how myself, but she's trying to kill us! Oh, my god! This "ship" Alice practically assaulted Xana! …fricking insane! Environmental controls…moderate sigh…stabilizing. …Obsession, and Resale. Seems like you only got one stage… Captain, Tom isn't himself! It's not a open and…! We'll have the Doctor look at…

The Bridge officers have mostly passed out from lack of oxygen. The EMH Doctor was unfortunately connected to Voyager's systems…when Sick Bay went offline. Captain Janeway and Seven barely force the door to Sick Bay open with their bare hands. Following soon after is a very dizzy B'Elanna…coughing up some drips of dark red liquid over a medical bed. Then, it all seems to fade for good. And all Tom Paris sees now…is Alice and the stars. Dark red to pale yellow wire coils are wired in him: Through the flight suit. Alice creepily muses, "and Daedalus fashioned wings from wax and feathers and used them to escape his prison." Nervously, Tom Paris recalls, "that's one of my favorite myths."

Alice slightly smiles, "I know. What is it?" Tom Paris mutters coldly, "stop." Alice the shuttle halts: With the particle fountain two hundred kilometers below them. Alice sighs hard, "you…think I tried to kill them. Don't you?" Tom Paris remarks, "the thought has crossed my mind. Slight laugh! I thought we "told each other everything." Guess I was wrong." Alice sighs hard. At his side, she quickly figures, "all those voices in your head…must be very discomforting. You're confused. I can help you."

Confusedly, Tom Paris sighs heavily, "how? We're already one." Alice slightly laughs, "you are the one. Our potential is unlimited." She feels her way around his back. Tom Paris groans softly. Alice feels around his shoulders, "I…was going to save the surprise for coming "home". But, in your confused state…you need to know. Forget your old future. I want you…to become part of me. Thought to thought. Who needs arms and legs…when you have true freedom?" Intoxicatingly, Tom Paris sighs to her, "I can't wait." Alice the shuttle starts heading into the particle fountain: Multiphasic shields up. Alice slightly laughs, "I promise you won't be disappointed."

Then suddenly, a projection of B'Elanna taps in, "don't believe her." Tom Paris looks to B'Elanna, "where's Alice?" B'Elanna urges, "oh come on, Tom! Get it through your thick skull: There is no Alice! You're letting a deluded program delude you." Torn by two fantasies, Tom Paris sighs heavily, "you don't understand. This is what I've always dreamed of." B'Elanna highlights, "you're still dreaming. And when you wake up, you're in for a big surprise." Teary eyed, Tom Paris insists, "Alice needs me." B'Elanna adds, "so do I."

Alice reappears beside Tom Paris, "a nice sentiment…but it's a lie. Your family will do anything to keep us apart. Don't listen to them!" B'Elanna calls out, "Tom! It's me. B'Elanna. Alice is an illusion." Alice mutters harshly, "I'm giving you what you always wanted! Something they can never do. Does that sound like an illusion?" Tom Paris turns to her, "B'Elanna…would never lie. Get…out…of my head!" He rips out the wire coils around him, driving them into the grayish neural clamp. Alice cries out, "no!" Tom Paris falls to the floor, shaking violently. The neurogenic interface overloads. The shuttle is exploding into flames. B'Elanna calls back to the Bridge, "beam him out: Now!" Tom Paris is beamed directly into Sick Bay…barely.

From Tom Paris's Quarters…

Can I…ever forgive myself? Most of the crew did…because I wasn't myself. But, how much was truly myself…and how much wasn't? I wouldn't know, because I'm not one with Alice anymore. I'm not even sure what is me now. Like a day in the life of a foolish cadet, it was all for nothing! No Slipstream. Only a battered and broken holonovel of a joke…and I'm not laughing. I should've listened to Seven. But, one thing's for sure: I'm never going to let myself get carried away by a ship again. Especially a psychotic ship. Wherever I go…I owe myself that promise. 


	3. Season 6: Fair Haven

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

Fair Haven:

On the USS Voyager, from Seven's Borg Alcove…

Private log, Seven of Nine, Stardate 53093.085. I have encountered the Borg Queen in two universes: Both under very uncomfortable circumstances. I have been a assimilated Borg drone for eighteen years. The irremovable Borg implants inside me have given me cause for vulnerability: For two years of being a individual again. With the exception of the Borg Queen… Sob. For a brief, but highly uncomforting time.

But, for all this Agony Stimulator can accomplish… It is highly agonizing to adapt to it! So many opinions I never knew I had: All surfacing without warning. All disorienting, one after the next! Deep breath. Deep breath. The Doctor says deep breaths…help emotional individuals preserve a sense of calmness. It appears to be helping.

Mister Paris has admitted that I was correct about Alice. Admittedly though… Heavy sigh. I was not prepared for it. I was about to cry. Sniffle. So, I simply said yes and walked away. Slight chuckle. I envy Xana's sense of calmness: It's…a admirable quality. Even in my vulnerable neurological state, she appears to be unfazed by my emotions. But, not in a unwary neurological state. Heavy sigh. But…I do not yet feel well enough to pursue a relationship with Xana.

However, I have felt well enough to make a personal change to my Borg alcove. With the Captain's permission, I and Lieutenant Torres have finished the necessary adjustments. It is now a bunk bed: Mostly as I desired it to be. But, I have not decided if I desire padding. Or, to have a second bunk bed. Earth language is sometimes confusing...but it is also intriguing at times. That does remind me of another matter. The matter that I desired to note from the start. Of… Deep sigh. Marika Wilkarah.

It began in a holodeck program set as Fair Haven: A simplistic Irish village, but with desirable simple comforts. We were passing through a neutronic storm for three days. For most of the crew, Fair Haven proved to be a highly efficient way to preserve a sense of calmness: For that length of time. And, on the Doctor's advice, I was among those individuals.

In Seven's eyes…

Seven is in Fair Haven's pub The Ox and Lamb: Mostly within dark brown train station like wooden walls. The bar is mostly in silver. The men are in mostly dark brown vests, and the women are mostly in very dark quilt like gowns. The half drunk townsfolk are laughing up a storm and trying their luck at games of rings. Seven is in a very black gown, but doesn't let her hair down. At a wooden table, across from her, is Kes: In a dark red sleeveless dress, and drinking from a mostly dark brown mug of Irish beer. A little sick to her stomach, Seven slightly sighs, "I…envy human tolerance for alcoholic beverages. Even in intoxication, most humans adapt."

Kes looks up, "slight chuckle. Maybe, Seven. For how long is another question." A gray mustached Irish man with grayish black frontless hair catches sight of Seven. He wears black formal clothes and a black round top hat. Seven concludes a little uneasy, "perhaps. I have a question of my own." Kes offers, "please." Seamus then appears before them, "saints preserve us." Seven turns coldly to him, "we were in the middle of a conversation. If you desire to preserve your health…"

Mostly sounding casual, Kes quickly settles things, "don't you have a wife looking for you, Seamus?" Interestingly, Seamus moderately sighs, "by the Lord…you're right. I…should go seek counsel." With relief in her voice, Kes adds, "that'd be good." Seamus walks away, very shaken. Seven notices Kes holding some subatomic particles in hand: Plainly for Seamus to see. Seven heavily sighs, "thank you for your assistance." Kes makes the subatomic particles vanish. She slightly chuckles, "sure. I won't tell if you won't." Still a little irritated, Seven figures, "thank you. But, my question?"

Kes slightly smiles, "sure: My subatomic particle calculations find there to be only a four percent chance of more interruptions." Now slightly amused, Seven inquires, "with your non-corporeal capabilities, would you be capable of getting Voyager to the Alpha Quadrant?"

Kes sighs delicately, "I'm afraid it's not that simple, Seven. I am physically capable, but not spiritually. I have a strong feeling everyone on Voyager will make it back…with or without my help. But, Voyager is the only Starfleet vessel in this Delta Quadrant. And in this Delta Quadrant, there are still many lives that can be saved: With Voyager's help, before returning to Earth. Besides, spiritually…not many on Voyager are fully ready to go back at this time." Seven slightly nods approvingly, "I may not like your conclusion…but I am in agreement with that logic."

From Seven's Borg Alcove…

I suppose that is another surfacing opinion in itself. But… Moderate sigh. I acknowledge that Kes's logic is correct. I desire my emotions to stop being disorienting. And…I suppose I have a subconscious desire to get to the end result immediately. The end result of my emotions fully integrating into my individuality: Through the comforts of home, as my collective on Voyager identify it. But then, it would not truly be integration of my emotions…would it? I suppose though that that is comfort enough for me.

I experienced a rather similar comfort…with a game of rings. In my disorientated neurological state, it helped me have a temporary sense of calmness. But nevertheless, it helped. And, it was a fair source of pleasure. With the difficulty setting of the holographic competitors increased, of course. The Captain though…is still not fully integrated into her future sense of calmness. She remained on the Bridge, to keep an eye on the storm. Chakotay though appears to be fully integrated into his future sense of calmness: He joined Mister Paris and Mister Kim for drinks. But two hours later…the holodeck had a storm of its own design.

In Seven's eyes…

On the laid out stone streets of Fair Haven, there's the train car like Irish stores of green and blue among the stone laid houses. Over them is a bluish sunset, against a rapidly distorting fog. The holo-grid is beginning to flash on and off, like a giant lightning storm. Seven is walking down the laid out stone: With a warm mannered frontless black haired man named Michael Sullivan. He has stubble all about. He wears a very dark blue vest and a pale yellow undershirt. Seven slightly chuckles, "cead mile failte. A very intriguing expression. I will remember it…well." Michael Sullivan slightly chuckles, "just remember to come…see me." They both pause.

Falling down from the sky are distorted red and gray Borg nanoprobes, crawling over the stones at alarming speed. The townsfolk are running for cover, locking their doors. But, many of them end up covered in the bizarre Borg nanoprobes: Including Michael Sullivan, before Seven's fearful eyes. They're rising as Nazis, Borg, Hirogen, and other random holograms. Seven gasps, running like hell.

In the Ox and Lamb, Tom Paris and Harry Kim are checking the holodeck control panel. Harry Kim sighs heavily, "I can't, Tom! None of the holodeck controls work: Not even so much as a off switch." Tom Paris concludes, "and naturally…moderate sigh…neither do the safety protocols. So much for the luck of the Irish." Seven ducks for cover, behind the Ox and Lamb's very dark blue double doors. Harry Kim realizes, "Seven." Just catching her breath, Seven acknowledges, "Lieutenant…Commander Kim. Lieutenant Commander…Paris. It's good to…"

Then, the double doors explode. The impact knocks Seven hard into the bar's side: Very dizzy and violently coughing on her side. A army of Hirogen are barging in, with their tetryon rifles. From the windows, a army of Borg drones are smashing their way in. Tom Paris and Harry Kim duck into the back of the bar for cover, hoping to wait it out.

As Seven comes back to her senses, she finds herself in a very dark underground water current. High above is Fair Haven's classic looking wooden roofed well. And standing in front of Seven is a hologram Seska: In her true Cardassian form, but she isn't creepily grinning. She moderately sighs, "good. You're awake."

Very nervous, Seven rises up to her feet, "what happened? Oww!" Seska comments offhandedly, "well, your side is bleeding internally. Almost didn't make it. I was looking for cover, and I covered your sorry ass instead. Pretended I was dead. And…now we're both off the face of the planet." Seven feels a cast around her left side: Unseen in the dark. She groans in sharp pain, but steadies herself against the underground.

Seska reveals, "the surface is being assimilated by a Borg Queen: Piece by piece, body by body." Seven comes towards full realization, "thank you for your…assistance. Not the Borg?" Teary eyed, Seska slightly laughs, "for a cybernetic heavyweight, you catch on fast. The Vidiians, the Borg, the Kazon… They're too wrapped up in killing each other to see the elusive Borg Queen." Seven concludes, "and…the nano-probe swarm?" Seska solemnly nods, "lost some good people up there to those…machines. But, Marika is their hive mind. And, we might be the last."

Seven turns to her worriedly, "Marika? Marika Wilkarah?!" Seska figures dismissively, "why the hell should I care?! There's only one rogue Borg Queen: One Marika! That's all that matters. And if you want to stay alive on this planet, you'll follow my lead." Seven shakily nods, "all right. "Lead" on." Seska figures, "see? That wasn't so hard, was it now?" She and Seven head down the underwater current, for a shadowy well bucket.

From Seven's Borg Alcove…

The experience was highly…uncomfortable. From outside the holodeck, the holo-grid was too unstable to attempt to compensate for the distortions. On the holodeck…I was the only individual from my collective who could save us. But, having encountered the Borg and Borg technology on many occasions…my assimilation aside… I was able to adapt to this occasion without much difficulty. My thoughts on Fair Haven and Marika Wilkarah though…were both close to agonizing sadness.

My very first visit on a comforting holodeck program… Sniffle. Only for it all to be reprogrammed to adapt to yet again. For what Marika has been through… Sob. I…will never be able to make it up to her.

Three weeks and six days ago… Marika was looking for answers for a assimilative mistake. Along with Lansor and P'Chan: Formerly part of Unimatrix One, with me. Eight years ago, I linked them…because I was ashamed to be a individual again. After removing the neural link, they had at most one month left to live. But…sniffle. They were moderately comfortable as individuals…and that was enough for me to be moderately comfortable for what I did. At least…that is what my thought was.

But, Marika had not truly found a sense of calmness herself. For three weeks and six days…she desired a cure. I know… Sob. Because for three minutes, I was linked with her: One last time.

In Seven's eyes…

The holo-grid is twisting into a neutronic storm front: Made of flickering very dark blue and red Borg nano-probes. Most of the town is assimilated…by a Borg Queen with medium jet black hair. Her Bajoran face is Marika's. She calls out, "prepare the nano-probe collectors: We are Marika! Marika!" Her thousands of Borg drones echo her words. They're assembling four red lit main deflector dishes, out of the bizarre Borg nano-probes on the surface.

Off the seacoast, Seven and Seska have assembled a transporter pad: With the same bizarre Borg-nanoprobes. Many little wars are going on off the seacoast. Vidiians are stabbed to the rocks by Kazon. Vidiians extract cybernetic parts from overloading Borg drones. Borg drones assimilate purple scaly half dragon like Jem'Hadar by the hundreds: From the Dominion War. Seska has a pale grey harness of bizarre Borg nano-probe disruptor rifles over her chest. Over disruptor fire, she shouts, "you want to get yourself killed?!" Seska disruptor blasts many Jem'Hadar in one round, swept up by the crashing sea waves.

On the transporter pad, Seven points out, "a neutronic storm is coming within range. I suggest you find cover." Seven beams out, before Seska can say anything. She does however notice the neutronic storm…and starts running for the transporter pad. A Borg Queen assimilated Mr. Dunbar though phaser blasts her from behind. One of Seska's disruptors overloads, sending her spinning on her side. She groans violently, as the neutronic storm front comes over her and Mr. Dunbar.

Meanwhile, Seven beams directly to Borg Queen Marika. Filled with regret, Seven says, "Marika Wilkarah. Our thoughts…are one." Seven punches Borg Queen Marika down in mid-transport, stunning her. Seven swiftly injects her Borg assimilation tubules into Borg Queen Marika: Even as she is about to assimilate her first. But Seven doesn't assimilate her: She establishes a neural link…to the true form of Marika within.

The forest terrain of a all too familiar crash site surrounds Seven: Of the Unimatrix One crash of 2368, where a Borg Seven of Nine's neural link became a neurological time bomb for her Borg unit. A green rimmed very dark blue neutronic storm is coming over the trees: Its neutron radiation rapidly burning away at them. Seven hears crying…behind a very dark green bush. Seven hurries over, "Marika?! Marika." She sees the true form of Marika, surrounded by memory fragments in holographic distortions.

In holographic distortions…

A setting sun along the seacoast. A small cavern. The Main Universe Borg Queen's Chamber, with Marika linked to her Borg alcove. A Borg interlink module from weeks ago, kept secret from Voyager's crew. A still Locutus of Borg…responsible in the Battle of Worf 359 for eleven thousand deaths at the hands of the Borg. Seska in true Cardassian form: With a mostly blackish DNA extraction needle. Bits and pieces of 20th century Chronowerx data, left behind from Voyager's databanks of three years ago. Safety protocols offline. All these elements brought together…in Marika's attempt to crudely recreate the EMH Doctor's mobile emitter.

Seska slightly laughed, "…having second thoughts, Marika? After all, even a former Borg should be able to "adapt"." Marika heavily sighed, "I know the procedure…can kill... But, I could be dead any day…! Slight laugh. …why I chose you to assist... You may be deadly…treacherous… But, you are the most efficient Maquis engineer Voyager ever had." Seska figured disturbingly, "you're right…on all counts. But…too busy enjoying Fair Haven to detect our... So, if you're sure…now is the time." Marika slightly nodded, "I am aware... Do it." Marika couldn't help but scream: Unheard against the waves of the crashing sea.

Marika pulled out a dark red rimmed Borg implant micro-component from her leg: Using pain in her right parietal lobe to bypass her own Borg drone fail safes. New Borg nanoprobes were swiftly repairing her wounds. Marika screamed over and over. But, she pulled her shaky self together. The pulled out Borg implant component was inserted into a regenerating micro-wound in the left parietal lobe. Marika became linked to the holodeck itself: Through holo-Borg nanoprobes. In her physical shakiness, the bizarre Borg nanoprobes begun falling through the coming storm of fluctuations.

With the true form of Marika…

Not even looking up, Marika cries, "I…am as good as dead! Forget about me! Save…your crew. Save…yourself." She is fluctuating herself. The neutronic storm is almost over Marika. Teary eyed, Seven offers her hand, "I can not: Not without you. Forgiveness…is unnecessary." Marika looks up, a tear falling from her right eye. She silently nods…as she takes Seven's hand. Their Borg assimilation tubules wrap around each other: In the face of the neutronic storm. The neutronic storm interestingly swirls into Marika's spirit, glowing very dark blue.

Seven's spirit is knocked hard aside by the neutronic storm swirl, knocked out against the sandy like ground. And in those seconds, she sees the last of Marika's spirit: Through a soon to be memory fragment of a holographic distortion. Marika, as a electromagnetic life form, comes out of the holodeck: Through Voyager's Buzzard Collectors, to become one with the neutronic storm front. She takes the holographic distortions with her…letting what's left of Fair Haven return to normality.

Harry Kim, Tom Paris, Chakotay, and other Voyager personnel return to normal: Surviving for this long, because of being among the first to be assimilated by a Borg Queen Marika. It's the same with Michael Sullivan, ironically enough.

From Seven's Borg Alcove…

Slight uneasy chuckle. Perhaps Marika Wilkarah has finally found a sense of calmness. Perhaps she has not. I dislike not knowing her well being. But I do know this: In my last neural link with her… Sniffle. I lack any factual information to support or disprove this theory. But…I can only make the assumption that this will be the last circumstance in which I will see Marika again.

What is important is that in my last neural link with Marika…she had a sense of calmness. For whatever length of time that will continue to be Marika's neurological state…I suppose I can find enough comfort in that. As I can take comfort enough with my emotions fully integrating with my individuality…one day. End log.


	4. Season 6: One Small Step

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

One Small Step:

On the USS Voyager, from Xana's Quarters…

Personal log, Stardate 53301.77. Wonder if Starry Date sounds better. Slight chuckle. Not unless it's a "date". Slight chuckle.

Funny "old" galaxy, sometimes. Six years ago, I was a Junior officer on Voyager: Hoping to just explore, and get my mind off of…things. The Delta Quadrant has been a rocket powered adventure all the way… Moderate sigh. Well, maybe not all the way. Some horrors are just best left to the Delta Quadrant.

Culluh and Seska were horrors in themselves…screwing with everyone's minds. Moderate sigh. I'm…still not all sure if it was worth their deaths. Slight nervous chuckle. But, I'd love to see how the Vidiians are looking now. A deal in cosmic hell for a cure: Maybe. But, still… Tomorrow is my first date in years: With Seven, of all people. Nervous chuckle.

Almost sounds like I'm out of my mind. But, almost. When Seven started becoming part of our "star family"… She was the coldest human I ever laid eyes on. A computer database on gorgeous legs. But…that was before I got to really know her. Wonderfully caring, passionate, ultra high intelligence…and can crush anyone in her bare hands. Nervous chuckle. Glad we're part of her collective, that's for sure. If you ever see this log, Seven… I don't mind. Not sure yet myself how this "first date" will go… Slight chuckle. But, I trust you.

Today…was entertainingly interesting: Multifold. Yesterday, a graviton ellipse showed on sensors: The only football anomaly I've ever seen for myself in the early morning. And, half asleep. Chuckle! But, this anomaly was starry. It had the Ares IV for a ride. Three hundred years too late to get off: Probably. But, Lieutenant John Kelly won't be lost to the stars…because we recovered his log. Slight chuckle. Well, not exactly Seven and me. Almost everyone was thrilled to uncover this cosmic piece of twenty first century history. But…not Seven.

In Xana's eyes…

In Astrometrics, Xana and Seven are studying the nuclear darkish orange graviton ellipse: Struggling to stay awake. And bright yellow lightning streaks across the graviton ellipse's Mars like center.

Seven says irritatedly, "we're…receiving telemetry from the probe. It appears to have…entered a stable core within the anomaly. Yawn. The gravimetric forces appear…negligible. What?!" Xana is slightly chuckling.

A bit startled, she says, "nothing! Just…yawn…not every day you get to see a cosmic orange. Might even have…cosmic seeds." Slightly calmer, Seven figures, "a very intriguing metaphor. But, I am afraid the Borg have not found a wormhole to the Alpha Quadrant in any graviton ellipse. At least, not to my knowledge."

Xana shrugs, "oh well. Another day, maybe." Slightly nodding, Seven slightly chuckles, "another day." Xana tells the computer, "computer, run a multispectral analysis of the anomaly's core." The computer starts its analysis.

Seven theorizes, "I am aware this may be a futile suggestion…moderate sigh…given the nature of my collective. But…the Borg developed shields…yawn…to get through the gravimetric currents. They intended to dissipate the anomaly from within. Perhaps we should continue their efforts: Preserve other vessels it may come across." Xana can't help but chuckle, "we are mostly explorers here, Seven. Yet, it's "in your nature" to comply with the collective."

The computer adds, "core analysis complete." Seven heavily sighs, "perhaps: When I did not have the opportunity to experience emotions in their entirety. As I do now. But when the risk of survival outweighs the potential gain…should not survival be a more reasonable course of action?" Xana figures, "risk is part of the fun, Seven. For us "illogical humans", anyway." Deep in thought, Seven concludes, "Captain Janeway…might be the most risky human onboard. Yet, she has succeeded on preserving our collective…and others…on more than a hundred occasions. Perhaps logic is…sniffle…less relevant than I have previously thought." Xana slightly smiles, "perhaps so."

Seven turns back to the sensor readings, trying to hide her bittersweet teary eyes from Xana. Seven reports, "there are more than two point eight billion compounds in the core. The computer has isolated several synthetic compounds native to…Sector Zero Zero One." Looking at the readings, Xana realizes, "Titanium and polymer components, dating all the way back to the twenty first century. They seem to come…from a pre-warp Earth spacecraft. Starry."

With her teary eyes calming, Seven looks at Xana funny. Xana figures, "I'm a little more…"loose" with words. I hope you don't mind." Seven slightly sighs, "not too much. I have…tolerated worse thoughts from the Borg collective." Xana figures, "thanks…I think." Seven concludes, "you're welcome." She recalls, "Commander Chakotay mentioned a space capsule that was consumed by a graviton ellipse. The Ares IV, perhaps?" Xana slightly chuckles, "Borg ingenuity at it's finest: When not in the Borg collective." Seven concludes, "agreed. But...I am afraid I can not function well enough to be part of it." Xana turns to her worriedly, "are you coming down with something?"

Seven starts to shake, over a sensors console of Astrometrics. Struggling to stay upright, she mutters, "emotionally…perhaps. In the Borg collective, I was "assimilated" by history: Billions of Humans, Vulcans…" Shaking violently, Seven sobs uncontrollably, "Bolians…! So many bodies. So much blood!"

Shaken herself, Xana calls out, "snap out of it, Seven!" Surprisingly, she slaps Seven. Worriedly, Xana deeply sighs, "Seven?! You all right?"

Seven concludes to her, "heavy sigh. I am now: Thank you." Clutching her hand, Xana shakily chuckles, "it's your emergency protocol: You would've done the same for me."

From Xana's Quarters…

Deep sigh. Seeing Seven break down… No emergency protocol could prepare me for that. Slight chuckle. But…we both felt a lot better when it worked. I brought Seven to Sick Bay for medical treatment. We all felt for her. Especially me. Because, I knew a part of Seven wanted to go anyway: Deep down, under all that "self perfection" crap.

In Xana's eyes…

In the conference room, Xana is in Seven's usual side seat. Tuvok and Harry Kim are still asleep before dawn. And with the EMH Doctor seeing to Seven's stabilizing health…neither are in on the briefing. B'Elanna and Chakotay have recently finished going over the Ares IV: Including its third generation ion drive, and its last survey mission before it disappeared. Tom Paris is awkwardly smiling. He slightly chuckles nervously, "and into…the history books."

With a pause, Captain Janeway considers, "yes: Almost derailed the Mars program. Speaking of derailment… Is something on your mind, Lieutenant?"

Blushing, Tom Paris moderately sighs, "sorry. Just remembering when I lost my vi… Umm…velocity. On my first time in a shuttle." B'Elanna rolls her eyes, knowing what he was really thinking. Chakotay assumes, "well… If it makes you feel any better, Seven should be back on her feet by tomorrow." Somewhat relieved, Tom Paris slightly chuckles, "yeah. It does. But, without Seven on her feet…you sure we have enough data to go on?" B'Elanna sits back down.

Xana mostly assures, "I'm sure Seven left enough for those shield enhancements to save our asses, Tom. Of course, I'll need some more hands… Slight chuckle. And, someone familiar enough with Borg technology to monitor the shields. But, I can have a full picture of the schematics in a hour." B'Elanna reasons, "we have less than sixteen hours before the anomaly returns to subspace. But…I think we can pull this off." Captain Janeway slightly nods, "then we have to work quickly. Kellin can monitor the shields while the Flyer is inside the graviton ellipse. B'Elanna, help Xana modify the Flyer's shields. Wake up Harry if you have to, but one of us has to get more sleep on Voyager." Chakotay and B'Elanna say they understand…but not at the same time.

Captain Janeway continues, "good. Tom, review the database from the Ares Four mission. It might tell us something about this anomaly that we've missed. And, we're going to need a away team leader." Chakotay volunteers. Captain Janeway says, "yes. I thought you might. It's your mission." Chakotay thanks her. And soon after, everyone is dismissed.

Xana slightly turns to Captain Janeway, "umm…Captain?" Very unsure what's to come, Captain Janeway voices, "is there something about Seven we should know?" Xana slightly chuckles, "actually…it's a surprise for Seven. I know the mission comes first, but it would be too late to run it by you afterwards." Somewhat amused, Captain Janeway figures, "all right. But, please make it quick."

From Xana's Quarters…

I was. We all were. And, adventure was coming about. But, we screwed with the time a little. Slight chuckle. For a probe to capture the day. Getting to broadcast it to the Bridge… That was starry.

In Xana's eyes…

In Astrometrics, Xana looks to the big round screen. She silently smiles. Static is coming through. But Tom Paris, Chakotay, and Kellin are seen on the Delta Flyer. At the helm, Tom Paris reports, "the gravimetric shear is increasing." Kellin adds, "I'm picking up a weak spot in the turbulence: Directly ahead of us." Chakotay slightly nods, "I'll take it. Tom, full thrusters. Punch us through. Chakotay to Voyager. We're in." The screen changes to the graviton ellipse.

Its yellow plasma like electromagnetic ripples wave around. Random chunks of debris from other sectors and other times circle about. And among the debris is the shuttle Ares IV itself: Beat up, but with its corroding silver metallic hull still intact. Even without its very dark blue solar paneled wings. Chakotay checks, "are you seeing this, Captain? It's…incredible." From the Bridge, Captain Janeway says assuringly, "we all are, Commander." Kellin highlights, "it's very…calming. Like being in a ocean." Tom Paris slightly chuckles, "sounds like the perfect romantic getaway, B'Elanna." Over communications, B'Elanna figures, "fine. Slight chuckle. But, you're bringing the sunscreen."

At his station, a recently awake Harry Kim slightly chuckles. Captain Janeway subtly urges, "they'll be plenty of time to celebrate later. By our estimates, you have five hours, forty five minutes: Before the anomaly goes back into subspace." From the Delta Flyer, Chakotay says, "understood…Captain." The Bridge shakes. The static gets worse.

A recently awake Tuvok reports, "that was a gravimetric surge caused by the anomaly changing course…by point Zero Zero Six degrees." Over communications, Captain Janeway checks, "Xana?" Xana reports, "the probe is stable, Captain. Should be clear as day any second." With the static clearing, Chakotay checks, "what just happened?!" Captain Janeway wonders, "did you feel it too?" From the Delta Flyer, Chakotay shakes his head warily, "no. But… Slight sigh. As good a time as any to get started."

From Xana's Quarters…

They did. And, the gravimetric distortions were getting much worse. Chakotay was getting screwy: In full archeology swing, and he didn't know when to call it a day. They only had a minute to get out of there in one cosmic piece: A minute that they didn't have to bring out the Ares IV. The static got screwy, but there was no malfunction. When the static finally cleared…it… Moderate sigh. It turned out Chakotay tried to bring out the Ares IV with them: The whole cosmic piece. And, nearly became cosmic pieces themselves. The Delta Flyer looked like a graveyard, but they looked very much alive. Chakotay got a plasma surge to the head, and the concussion to go with it. But, still… Slight chuckle. We're a "star family." And, it'd take a hell of a lot more to keep Chakotay…or any of us down.

In Xana's eyes…

From the Delta Flyer, a barely stabilized Chakotay looks to Voyager: Through the reestablished telemetry link with the probe. His face is mostly plasma burned, but he is miraculously breathing normally. Somewhat embarrassed, Chakotay heavily sighs, "we've sustained heavy damage. Violent cough! But, we're alive. It's good to hear…violent cough…your voice." Over communications, Captain Janeway concludes solemnly, "likewise. But, don't strain yourself. You need to recuperate." Chakotay silently nods. Across both channels, Captain Janeway addresses, "options?"

Fairly shaken, Harry Kim suggests to her, "we could install the same shielding on a class two shuttle, and take it in." Xana moderately sighs, "as much as I want it to be that easy… We've only got eighty two minutes before this football anomaly disappears on us. I don't think we can get it underway in time."

Captain Janeway slightly sighs, "out here…it never is." Tom Paris mutters, "no shit." Tuvok suggests, "it might be possible to modify a tractor beam to cut through the gravimetric interference." Harry Kim reasons, "good. Except, we'll never be able to get it all the way through to the core of the anomaly." Captain Janeway figures, "well, unless anyone's got a better idea…" At Seven's station, B'Elanna adds, "I may. Kellin, Tom…you said you can't replicate a new plasma manifold. But, what if we could get a old manifold?" Tom Paris says confused, "all right. Correct me if I'm wrong, but the closest thing is the Ares IV. And, like the Delta Flyer, it's a sitting duck."

B'Elanna points out, "not all of it. It may be three centuries old, but the power distribution system isn't too different from the Delta Flyer's to work." Kellin slightly chuckles, "yeah. I remember the schematics. There's a control panel in the main cockpit. An ion distributor, right?" Impressed, B'Elanna slightly nods, "that's right. Good memory." Kellin thanks her. B'Elanna continues, "you're welcome. With a few tweaks, it could be modified to channel warp plasma." Kellin reasons, "sure. We would just need to get to it before we can modify it." Captain Janeway concludes with relief, "sounds good. Do you have enough power to beam one of you to the module?"

Tom Paris confirms, "yes, ma'am. I'll go." In hindsight, Captain Janeway says, "not so fast, Tom. If another gravimetric distortion hits, you're needed at the helm. Kellin?" With a space suit already on, Kellin slightly chuckles, "one step ahead of you, Captain." Captain Janeway figures, "all right. Standing by. Xana, can you establish a telemetry link with the Ares IV?" Xana figures, "I sure can. Working on it." In a matter of minutes, Kellin beams over to the Ares IV.

Keeping in mind what Chakotay and the rest of the crew want to save of the Ares IV, Kellin gathers all the data she can find. With help from Vyoir's special tricorder, it's all downloaded and relayed back to Voyager through the probe. Xana reports, "some of the data files are too heavily damaged. But, most of them are in one piece." Over communications, Harry Kim confirms it. Captain Janeway figures, "good work. Kellin, can you bring the computer online?" Kellin confirms, "yes. The computer is now online. The power distribution system is still functioning. A little run down from centuries of going nowhere, but it'll have just enough power to get the Delta Flyer out in one piece." Captain Janeway smiles, "just what we wanted to hear. Prepare to beam back to the Delta Flyer."

Kellin starts using her phaser to carefully loosen the power distribution system...without shorting it out. She concludes, "acknowledged. But Captain, there's another data file: In the main computer." A little unsure, Captain Janeway wonders, "how is that possible?" Tuvok figures logically, "it depends on what the file contains." Kellin says, "it appears to contain Lieutenant John Kelly's last log entries. Before he can store them."

Over communications, Tom Paris wonders, "can you play them for us?" Kellin figures, "I think so. But, at a better time: When we can have a proper funeral in Lieutenant Kelly's honor. Salvaging this plasma manifold will require a great deal of concentration." A little disappointed, Tom Paris figures, "understood." Over communications, Captain Janeway reasons, "acknowledged. But, you can salvage them?" Kellin adds simply, "I already have. Kellin out."

Captain Janeway checks, "Xana?" Xana confirms, "the logs are transferred to the Delta Flyer's sensor logs. Tom just confirmed it." Captain Janeway sighs with relief, "all right. Prepare to open Shuttle Bay 2." With a slight smile, B'Elanna confirms, "already on it."

From Xana's Quarters…

Yeah. It was close. But for me… Chuckle! It's just another chapter in the rocket powered adventure called the Delta Quadrant. In some screwy way, when we get back home…I'm going to miss it. But, there's one thing that will never change: Being a "star family", for better or screwy.

In Xana's eyes…

Seven is in Cargo Bay 2: Sitting by herself, and still quite embarrassed from her panic attack. Then, Xana walks in: With a dark green PADD with a dark green bow. In much confusion, Seven looks up, "Xana?" Xana sits down next to her. She slightly chuckles, "a gift." Xana hands her the PADD. Seven looks to her again, "a audio recording?" Xana reasons, "not just a recording: It's a audio copy of Lieutenant Kelly's logs. I know seeing them may not be possible for you, but maybe this would." With a tear in her eye, Seven slightly chuckles, "it is…a very touching thought. But, how did you…?"

Xana points out, "we've been on the same ship for five years. Slight chuckle. How much more "togetherness" were you expecting?" Bittersweetly smiling, Seven figures, "from my collective, I should not expect less." She puts the PADD gently aside. Seven concludes, "but, perhaps I am emotionally ready for a relationship: With you."

With a hand on hers, Xana figures warmly, "sure. But, let's not give you "too many emotions" in one day. Agreed?" Seven nods, "agreed."

From Xana's Quarters…

And with Seven…it's pretty much a little of both. Slight chuckle. But, I wouldn't have it any other way. End log.


	5. Season 6: Fury

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

Fury:

On the USS Voyager, from Captain Janeway's Quarters…

Captain's personal log, Stardate 53368.085. Slight nervous chuckle. I always held out hope for getting this crew home. But, communications with Mister Barclay... We were all stunned: Even Tuvok. It may have been just for a few seconds, but the hyper-subspace technology looks hopeful. Looking back at those seconds though… That wasn't all I felt. Hard sigh. I should've been happier for those memorable seconds: For the thought of getting home. But, I felt sadness too. And before today, I wouldn't be able to admit it. Kes was visiting us… Hard sigh. And, she could sense it.

In Captain Janeway's eyes…

On a holodeck, a physical Kes and Captain Janeway are playing a game of Velocity. Kes is in her early purplish red Starfleet vest and black sweatpants, phaser firing the disk away from her at the last second. It glows blue. Captain Janeway is in her mostly dark red Velocity clothes, ready to propel the disk with her phaser. She slightly chuckles, "getting tired?"

Between hard breaths, Kes sighs, "kind of. I think…my physical body needs…more practice." She tumbles under the incoming glowing red disk, while phaser firing at it. Kes misses. Captain Janeway phaser fires the disk hard left, spinning into a getting up Kes. The disk vanishes on contact. The computer says, "full impact. Final round to Janeway. Winner Kes."

Captain Janeway slightly chuckles, "could've fooled me. You sure you weren't using your non-corporeal abilities?" Catching her breath, Kes comments, "if…I was, you'd know. Besides, that…would be cheating."

Captain Janeway checks, "you all right?" Kes slightly nods, "I am. I've found worse timelines to be in. But, now that I think about it…how's your timeline going?" Captain Janeway assumes, "well, let's see. A few days ago, a Mister Barclay at Starfleet Command established communicat..."

Kes slightly chuckles, "that's not what I meant."

Captain Janeway wonders curiously, "oh?" Kes figures awkwardly, "I meant…for a relationship. You and the Doctor, perhaps?" Captain Janeway turns to her, "what maybe, Kes? We're colleagues: Not lovers!" Kes moderately sighs, "I'm sorry. I was just curious." Captain Janeway sighs sadly, leaning against a holodeck wall. She concludes, "no: I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled." Kes asks, "what's wrong?" Captain Janeway faces her, "the Doctor said he'd think about it. But… Hard sigh."

Kes realizes, "you never got back to him…did you?" Captain Janeway nods grimly, "five months, ten days. Bullshit, isn't it?" Kes reasons sympathetically, "maybe. But…I'm sure he'll understand." Captain Janeway slightly chuckles, "thanks. But, not sure I understand it myself. Good game though." Without another word, she heads out of the holodeck.

From Captain Janeway's Quarters…

All I wanted to do then and there was take a good long shower: Clear my head. But, just as I was getting the shower ready… Chakotay called me up to the Bridge. And Kes wasn't far behind. But, she looked very concerned: Like Hell itself was coming for Voyager. Unfortunately…Kes has never been wrong before.

In Captain Janeway's eyes…

On the Bridge, Captain Janeway mutters under her breath, "this better be important." Chakotay reports, "it is: We're receiving a distress call. A small vessel on a intercept course. At least…I think it's a vessel." The viewscreen shows a blob like multicolored shuttle shaped vessel. Tom Paris slightly chuckles, "looks like a moon bounce." Captain Janeway checks, "life signs?" Kes is just getting out of a turbolift. Harry Kim concludes, "one. It's…" Kes quickly realizes, "…the mirror Kes." Harry Kim concludes nervously, "sensor readings confirm it: One hundred percent DNA match." Tuvok reports, "we're being hailed."

Captain Janeway slightly turns to Kes, hoping for some clue as to the mirror Kes. Kes slightly sighs, "the vessel is made of pure subatomic particles: If it wasn't that obvious to me…I wouldn't know she was here." Captain Janeway orders, "onscreen." The ISS Kes appears on the viewscreen: In a grayish black robe, and glaring in their direction. She says coldly, "Ma'am, you have one minute to let my sister go. Let her go…or you're going to wish you did." Captain Janeway starts to say, "I don't take kindly to…" The transmission cuts off. Kes has vanished from sight.

Chakotay checks uneasily, "Seven?" Uneasy herself, Seven reports at her station, "the vessel is on a collision course: For…Main Engineering." Captain Janeway calls out over communications, "attention to all Main Engineering personnel: Eject the core, and get the hell out of there!" To Tom Paris, she orders, "Tom, back us off if you can." Tom Paris deeply sighs, "yes, ma'am." Chakotay reasons lowly, "Captain: Knowing Kes…" Harry Kim reports, "impact in five seconds!" Captain Janeway moderately sighs, "I know, Commander. But with a mirror..."

Main Engineering explodes, as the subatomic particle ship smashes right into it: Past the ejecting warp core. Many screaming bodies are sucked out of Deck 11, into the vacuum of space. In outer space, a glowing bright white Kes is struggling to turn them into subatomic particles: To save it all. But, it only holds back the subatomic particle ship by several minutes.

The Bridge buckles under the stress, in growing flames. The back and side consoles explode with dark purple telepathic energy. Several crewmen fall to the ground, lifeless. Harry Kim realizes very shaken, "Decks 11 to 15…are destroyed. No life signs." Teary eyed, Tom Paris doesn't move from the Helm. He sobs, "B'Elanna. No. B'Elanna!" Captain Janeway and Seven stand there, too shaken to say a word. In a few seconds though, Captain Janeway vanishes in a bluish green subspace corridor: With a saddened Kes. Chakotay shouts over communications, "attention all hands: abandon ship! Abandon…!" Voyager explodes from the inside out, as the subatomic particle ship pierces its way right through it.

From Captain Janeway's Quarters…

Heavy sigh. I couldn't believe it myself: My crew, Voyager…crippled into space dust before my eyes! Slight chuckle. But, thank goodness for Kes…or none of us would be alive. I'm still getting a headache just thinking about the mirror Kes. But, Kes calculated through her subatom… Well, whatever those particles are. Kes calculated that the mirror Kes might lash out again. So, together…we prepared a holographic program to help her calm down. But, how could we know she'd lash out at us?! From another timeline…Kes soon figured out why.

The mirror Kes was about to kill the mirror Kathryn Janeway, but… Hard sigh. A mirror Tanis got in the way. I wasn't there to witness it myself…but I wish I could've been: To talk to her. And, when Kes sent the mirror Kes away to find herself again… Something in her snapped. In her dementia, she sees Kes as she once was: A living weapon for the Terran Empire, at the hands of the mirror Kathryn Janeway's crew. We knew then mirror Kes wouldn't rest until Kes was "freed"…from me. It didn't matter what timeline we would go to: The mirror Kes could come for us anytime, anywhere. But, it wasn't us she was after now.

We all too soon realized that the mirror Kes has gone into the past instead: To try to "free" Kes…her sister in spirit…before she could know her. To be more precise…almost four years ago.

We were on course out of Vidiian space, when we detected a Vidiian medical base. It was protected…and defended by a array of adaptive force field shielding. There was the long way around, through a dark matter nebula. But, that would take months which Voyager couldn't afford to take. We have devised a Vidiian transporter override protocol for their medical scanners: In light of a fairly recent close call with them. But, only as a last resort: Because it would overload our sensors.

The mirror Kes was planning to overload our sensors at the worst possible time…and take Kes with her. The younger Kes…I think. Computer, pause log. Heavy sigh! I can't think straight: I need some coffee. That's better. Computer, resume log. Kes and I…from the present…went back in time to save her and the rest of Voyager's crew. Fortunately for us, we found that the mirror Kes made one big mistake: In her dementia, she thought Neelix was in danger from us…both past and present. The mirror Kes wanted him to run away with her, back to the Ocampan homeworld. And naturally…in the past…Neelix informed Tuvok.

In Captain Janeway's eyes…

In the Airponics Bay, the present Captain Janeway and Kes are appearing by way of a bluish green subspace corridor. The mirror Kes is hunched over the nearest open Jefferies tube door: Wearing the past Kes's Starfleet clothes. In the Jefferies tube is a sedated past Kes. The mirror Kes urges nervously, "computer…initiate site to site transport: Program Kes beta six." The computer responds, "unable to comply. Transporter functions have been disabled. Command authorization unrecognized." The mirror Kes mutters madly, "no! Ma'am…is here." The present Captain Janeway and Kes get down, behind a Airponics Bay unit.

The past Tuvok has come into the Airponics Bay. The past Neelix and the past Captain Janeway are present too: The past Captain Janeway with a phaser. With a phaser ready too, the past Tuvok orders, "drop your weapon." The mirror Kes drops a hypospray. The past Tuvok adds carefully, "on your feet. Turn around: Slowly." The mirror Kes faces them, teary eyed. She says under her breath, "Ma'am, you don't understand: If I don't get her to the Caretaker Array, she'll die!" The past Captain Janeway checks, "is this our intruder, Neelix?" Neelix slightly nods.

To the present Captain Janeway, the present Kes whispers, "it won't be enough. I'll take care of Voyager: Your past you needs you here." With a amassing headache, the present Captain Janeway says lowly, "now, wait a damn minute! How the hell am I sup…?!" The present Kes mostly assures her, "trust me. You'll know." She vanishes.

Meanwhile, the past Captain Janeway figures solemnly, "we'll take it from here. Chakotay, what's your status?" From the Bridge, the past Chakotay reports, "we have fifteen seconds until we clear the force field shielding…but o..." Red alert goes off. The ship buckles under Vidiian hypothermic charges. The Bridge consoles overload, exploding in flames.

The fire suppression system is barely putting out the flames…but flames are the least of the past crew's worries. From the Bridge, the past Harry Kim reports, "sensors just went…! Well, they were offline." The past Captain Janeway and the past Tuvok try to maintain their balance from the shaking. In those seconds, ISS Kes has a dark purple subspace corridor appear under her. ISS Kes reappears through another, hovering above the past Captain Janeway and Tuvok. She blasts dark purple telepathic energy at them. The present Captain Janeway calls out, "take cover!"

The past Captain Janeway and Tuvok barely tumble out of range: The floor melting inwardly in flames, where they once stood. The past Captain Janeway looks stunned, "just what the hell is…?!" The present Captain Janeway run jumps out of the way of a exploding Airponics unit, hit by a dark purple telepathic energy blast. Tumbling to her feet, she slightly sighs, "trust me: You don't want to know." At the same time, the present Captain Janeway phaser blasts ISS Kes. ISS Kes falls to the floor, but only dazed. The past Tuvok figures, "Security to Airpon…" The past Captain Janeway slightly chuckles, "belay that order, Tuvok: My…other self has it covered."

The present Captain Janeway figures, "you're welcome." Suddenly, the sedated past Kes awakens: With the present Kes's spirit within her, glowing faint white. She says, "actually…I do." The present Captain Janeway slightly chuckles, "I stand corrected. We'll take it from here." The past Captain Janeway concludes confusedly, "thank you…Captain."

Over combadge, she checks, "Chakotay…how's Voyager?" Chakotay figures, "still in one piece, thankfully." The past Captain Janeway slightly chuckles, "I know what you mean."

The present Kes deduces plainly, "I'm not a prisoner, Kes. As you can see, I'm free to come and go of my own free will: I always have." Just getting to her feet, the mirror Kes reveals her true form. As if waking up from a horrifying nightmare, she says, "I… I don't understand." The present Kes sighs sadly, "it's ok, Kes. It's ok." She hugs the mirror Kes, as she cries over her shoulder.

From Captain Janeway's Quarters…

You think you have all the time in the universe. And yet…shit like this happens: Out in the middle of uncharted space. The mirror Kes turned out to be as lost and confused as we were: When me and my crew found ourselves pulled into the Delta Quadrant, by the Caretaker Array. On that day though, we put our differences aside: Maquis and Starfleet alike. We've come a long way since. The mirror Kes went back to the present with us...and stopped herself from crippling Voyager. For her, that's coming a long way. And so, I'm the only one among the crew that remembers it.

But, Kes wants it to stay that way. And, she'll get no argument from me. We showed the mirror Kes the holographic program…and then I knew there was hope in her yet.

In Captain Janeway's eyes…

In her Ready Room, a hologram of a non-corporeal Kes comes on:

Remember me…the little sister you're here to save? If you're watching this now, I'm afraid you're the one who needs saving: Because I am no prisoner, and that's not what you should be seeing me as. It also means you've come back for revenge. But please, whatever happens…don't. You're stronger than that. Revenge won't bring you peace: It'll only kill your spirit. That's not who you are, and that's not who I am.

For all the months we spent together, getting by in the Ocampan desert… You should know by now that I chose to be on my Voyager...with my friends. You chose not to be on your Voyager…and that's perfectly fine. But, Kes…what do you want? If you still don't know, Captain Janeway can help you find out. I have every confidence in her. I'm not saying you should forget about me. Try to remember yourself again…and try to remember me.

The ISS Kes stands there, across from the present Captain Janeway. Kes though isn't with them. ISS Kes looks down, sighing heavily in her hands. She says, "I know you may never forgive me. But, if it's worth anything to you…I'm sorry."

Captain Janeway sighs bittersweetly, "don't be: I…crossed the line myself once." Unnerved by this, ISS Kes wonders, "really?" Teary eyed, Captain Janeway slightly nods, "yes. I did. Still get the nightmares from time to time. I never forgave myself, but…at least I can live with it."

From Captain Janeway's quarters…

And if there's one thing I learned…it's never too late to do what's right. Or, at least try to. Because, trying alone counts for a lot of effort. Even if it doesn't work out as well as you hoped it would. For a relationship, or otherwise. End log.


	6. Season 6: Virtuoso

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

Virtuoso:

On the USS Voyager, from the EMH Doctor's Quarters…

Chief Medical Officer's personal log, Stardate 53561.4. Heavy sigh! For every precious minute on Voyager…a wretched minute tends to rears its ugly head. I'm quite grateful we're at heart still a family. Although, with all this crew has been through…treading on for home… It's nothing sort of a miracle that we are still a family.

But, Kathryn Janeway… Sniffle. For all her warmth and sharp brilliance…she can be the most hypocritically infuriating organic being in the galaxy. Yes, in the whole galaxy! A Q could laugh at her hypocrisy. Of course, it is nothing to laugh at.

And I suppose, for the first and only time I ever could remember having a relationship… Moderate sigh. I should have seen this coming. Three months, one day… That is how long it has been. Sure, it was fairly awkward at first. But, once we both fully realized there was no longer a reason to be… Slight chuckle. It was as if the weight of the galaxy was lifted from our shoulders. And, that the galaxy itself was a stage for our long self denied fantasies: Holographic and otherwise. Then… Sniffle. Then came the first day…of my holographic breakdown.

It all started when we were providing medical assistance to a Qomarian crew. Slight sigh. More like trying to, I suppose.

In the EMH Doctor's eyes…

In Voyager's Sick Bay, four Qomarian scientists are here: With their scorpion like forehead ridges, and mostly medium frontless hair among themselves. They're standing in the back: Very intent on staying where they are. In a insistent high pitched tone, a darkish gray haired Qomarian named Abarca mutters, "stay away from us." He wears a matching robe. With a tricorder in hand, the EMH Doctor sighs irritatedly, "if you don't cooperate, I can't treat you." Abarca insists to him, "when we agreed to be examined by this ship's medical officer, we didn't know that you were a primitive computer matrix."

The EMH Doctor mutters under his breath, "I assure you there is nothing primitive about me. I am programmed to perform more than five million medical procedures." In a drawn out fashion, a black haired Qomarian named Tincoo wonders, "does that…include…bloodletting?" She wears sharply blue robes. With mixed feelings, the EMH Doctor moderately sighs, "no: It was deemed too barbaric for twenty first century medical practice. But, it seems you were expecting a "more primitive" answer." Surprised, Tincoo slightly chuckles, "we were. Maybe you're not as primitive as we thought." Abarca reluctantly says, "maybe." Slightly smiling, the EMH Doctor suggests, "then please…have a seat."

Not long after, the EMH Doctor is going over Qomarian phyisiology: In his office, so he can treat the Qomarians's injuries in almost no time at all. With a beep at the Sick Bay doors, the EMH Doctor says, "come in." Captain Janeway comes in, "hello, Kenneth. Just thought I'd stop by." She stands over his shoulder, up close and personal. The EMH Doctor slightly smiles, "and it's a pleasure to see you, Kathryn. But, I do have patients." Captain Janeway slightly nods, "of course." She kisses him briefly, before pulling herself away. Captain Janeway moderately sighs, "wouldn't want to "keep you" from your duties. How are our guests?"

The EMH Doctor reports, "their injuries are minor. But, their manners take some…getting used to. If you don't mind my saying so." Captain Janeway slightly nods, "not by much. They don't strike me as very social. But, I'll leave their treatment in your very capable hands." With a slight chuckle, the EMH Doctor says, "thank you, Captain." With a slight smile, Captain Janeway figures, "I'll see you later: Off duty." She leaves the EMH Doctor to his work.

Abraca checks annoyedly, "are you ready yet?" Spelling it out for them, the EMH Doctor sighs, "I am now. Your physiology is close to human physiology…minus a few differences. I have had to isolate those differences to find a adequate treatment."

Abraca mutters to himself, "our holograms can isolate physiological differences in three point six seconds." The EMH Doctor is already getting out a hypospray. Trying to not think about Abraca's annoying manner, the EMH Doctor starts singing, "I've been working on the railroad, all the live-long day. I've been working on the railroad, just to pass the time away." The Qomarian scientists start staring at him.

Abarca asks, "what is that?" With a little confusion, the EMH Doctor concludes, "this? A hypospray." Abarca figures dismissively, "no. What you were doing." Even more confused, the EMH Doctor wonders, "preparing your medication?" Tincoo pinpoints, "no. With your voice." The EMH Doctor realizes, "you mean singing?" Fascinated, Tincoo says, "singing." Abarca urges, "do it again." Tincoo adds, "yes. Do it again." The EMH Doctor slightly smiles, as all the irritation seems to just wash away. He starts singing again, "someone's in the kitchen with Dinah, Someone's in the kitchen I know. Someone's in the kitchen with…"

From the EMH Doctor's Quarters…

I couldn't believe it: A culture that has never heard of music. Their interest in music may have been only mathematical, but they meant well: In their own way of expressing emotions. In celebration of this occasion, the Qomarians started welcoming outsiders with open arms. All right: Open arms is just wishful thinking. But the point was…they were becoming better as a people. And with my voice, I had become not only their very first celebrity: But, a spiritual leader of sorts. But only after a few days… Sniffle. The final curtains of my fame came.

In the EMH Doctor's eyes…

In the Mess Hall, Qomarians by the hundreds are beaming in line to see the EMH Doctor. Silver Gameboy like dark blue centered PADDs are stacked and ready, with mostly song sample holo-replicas of the EMH Doctor. The EMH Doctor wears a dark red silvery robe over his Starfleet combadge. Swept away with one of his holo-replicas, he's singing, "Dio, che nell'alma infondere amor volesti e speme, desio nel core..." Some Qomarian women faint. Thunderous clapping bangs against the Mess Hall walls. Deck 2 has turned into a habitat ring for impatient Qomarians. And Security under Tuvok is taking the Jefferies tubes: Just to get down there.

The EMH Doctor slightly chuckles, "thank you for coming. Please accept this eight by ten by four singing replica of me." Neelix is insisting "one at a time", over and over. And, it's only his own enthusiasm that keeps the Qomarians from walking over him. Captain Janeway comes in, by way of Jefferies Tube. A unfazed Neelix figures, "Captain, isn't this exciting?" Captain Janeway mutters under her breath, "not sure that's the word I'd use for it. Excuse me. Sorry. Excuse me." The EMH Doctor slightly sighs, "I'm sorry, Captain. You caught me. I meant to keep it as a surprise, but…here is the special replica I made for you."

He takes out a dark red centered holo-replica, with the song That Old Black Magic briefly playing to a holographic scene: Of Captain Janeway and the EMH Doctor wrapped up with each other, making out under night black sheets. Captain Janeway is stunned, but very reluctantly thinks back to why she's here. She struggles to not stumble over her words, "I… I'm sure it's wonderful. Moderate sigh. But, I'm afraid I need to have a talk with you: Outside." Concerned, the EMH Doctor looks to her, "all right."

He turns to his adoring fans, "ladies and gentlemen, the Maestro will be back shortly." The Qomarians look very stunned. The EMH Doctor goes out of the Mess Hall with Captain Janeway: As Tuvok's Security team comes in to escort the Qomarians out as delicately and calmly as possible. The EMH Doctor checks, "why? What's wrong?" With a arm against the wall, Captain Janeway moderately sighs, "sweetheart, how can I put this delicately enough?" The EMH Doctor figures, "well, I may not know what it is: But, you're off to a good start."

Captain Janeway slightly sighs, "all right. Your fans are creating a mob scene. And, it's not all your fault. But, as we..." The EMH Doctor voices incredulously, "not all my fault?! Moderate sigh. So, some of my fans are getting overexcited." Captain Janeway whispers harshly to him, "and clearly, so are you! You've been neglecting your duties in Sick Bay, ever since…" The EMH Doctor looks at her, very shaken. Captain Janeway's glare pierces through his usual calm: Like the unethical EMH Doctor cutting through his kind nature, when he deactivated him. The EMH Doctor mutters under his breath, "neglecting my duties?! Heavy sigh! My program can be expanded indefinitely. I don't have limits."

Captain Janeway figures coldly, "maybe so. But, you have not been present in Sick Bay for three days. That borders on insubordinate behavior." The EMH Doctor stares at her, like he has just been given a death sentence. He laughs in enormous disbelief, "oh, come on Captain! I know perfectly well what this is all really about." Sarcastically, Captain Janeway slightly sighs, "well, I'm glad one of us does! I give up: What the hell is this all "really about"?" The EMH Doctor sighs lowly, "I'm sorry. Sniffle. I shouldn't have yelled. But, after all you've accomplished as a better person… It turns out that I'm just a holographic "toy" to you!"

Teary eyed, Captain Janeway starts to say, "Doctor. I… I never…" Teary eyed himself, the EMH Doctor looks away. In surfacing hatred, he mutters, "whenever there's "something wrong with my programming", all you do is play mind games. You think I'm not sentient enough to see through them?! Well, you're wrong! I don't know who to feel more sorry for: For you, or myself for ever thinking I could love you! Good day!"

The EMH Doctor walks off furiously, not looking back. Captain Janeway's tears fall, as she heads down the other direction. She then pauses. Captain Janeway says over her combadge, "Janeway to Chakotay: I can't come to the Bridge right now. Sniffle. You have the Bridge." Over his combadge, Chakotay says nervously, "o…k. Are you all right, Captain? Captain? Captain?!" Captain Janeway doesn't answer. She just walks into the nearest empty turbolift, heading straight for her Quarters.

From the EMH Doctor's Quarters…

Heavy sigh. It got pretty quiet after that day. The crew left the next day, because Chakotay though it'd be the most sensible thing to do: For the Qomarians…and us. And, he was right. I would not be emotionally ready to sing onstage, had we stayed. Before we left though, I gave Tincoo permission to replicate my program: One devoid of emotion, so that the hologram replica would not be… Sniffle. So that it would not be as heart broken as I was. The Qomarians turned out to want that anyway. So, I ended up doing what's right by them.

But, looking back at the Qomarian people though…I can't help but feel somewhat hurt. I mean, if that's what they wanted anyway… Moderate sigh. Would it have been made anyway, with or without considering my feelings in the matter? I may never know.

And that's what gave rise to my holographic breakdown: Not knowing. Not knowing if a step into Sick Bay would be my last. Not knowing if the crew would go behind my back again: To fix "something wrong with my programming." I turned to a holodeck program to try to calm down: Preliminary testing for a daydreaming subroutine I was still developing. But, it only worsened my fear…into paranoia. I thought of turning to Seven. But by then… Sniffle. I thought the whole crew was out to get me. To shut me down, if I wasn't "a good little hologram". So, in my state of helplessness… I planned to end the nightmare: Permanently, with my death. Sniffle. With one last song…about lost love.

In the EMH Doctor's eyes…

In a black and white tuxedo, the EMH Doctor faces a crowd of all the historic greats: Including Leonardo Da Vinci, the elderly but ruthless T'Pau of Vulcan, the legendary Klingon Kahless…and the youth rejuvenated medium black haired Zefram Cochrane and his medium black haired Companion with the body of a Nancy Hedford. They're clapping. The holographic music hall is mostly Italian dark red. Three golden apple trees seem to have grown out of it. The EMH Doctor calls out to the crowd, "thank you, thank you! For my final song, I'm going to sing about a lost love of mine: Through a old Neapolitan ballad." The music hall goes silent.

The EMH Doctor starts singing in Italian, "under the eaves of the old tower… As the almond tree blossoms, a friendly swallow has returned.  
Week by week she returns, always in the same hour. She crosses mountains and sea to come by the almond tree. Only the love flees, and does not return. It makes you hope in vain, but those days are gone forevermore.  
It makes you hope in vain, but those days are gone forevermore." He suddenly notices something out of place: Teary eyed Captain Janeway and teary eyed Seven, in the midst of the holographic crowd.

Captain Janeway's voice calls out in song, "how could I hurt you?!" Seven's voice calls out in song, "hope for self hurt…for death… This must not be! You are better than vainness. We hope for you kindly: Forevermore, forevermore." The EMH Doctor looks to them, very disoriented. He sings on, "in the soft twilight of evening, hope is passing me by. The swallows chatter in their flight — they are drunk with light and air.  
But, I am sad and lonely! You do not cross mountains and sea to come by.  
My flighty swallow! My flighty swallow! You were my whole life." Then in the midst of it all, a subspace corridor appears: And coming out of it is a glowing bright white Kes, hovering over with the wings of a angel.

The holographic Captain Janeway and Seven beam onto the stage. They're interfaced to their physical selves: By way of Seven's Borg assimilation tubules for Captain Janeway's hologram on audio cue, and Xana's unwavering help with programming Seven's hologram on cue. The EMH Doctor calls out, "computer, delete the audience! Delete my…!" The very confused audience vanishes.

Kes concludes in song, "we fly…fly…fly to bring you back. All this time, flying from your light and air…you became the flighty swallow." Letting the tears fall, Captain Janeway sings, "you're not the only one, but you ran with a heart of doubt. We fly…fly…fly to bring you back." Clinging to her suspended tears, Seven sings, "don't fight who you are. Forgive and not forget. It's never too late to fly…fly…fly." All three echo, "it's never too late to fly…fly…fly."

Overwhelmed with bittersweetness, the EMH Doctor stumbles on the stage. A holographic silvery fencing saber falls from his silvery robe: Coated in holographic but deadly dark green poison. The EMH Doctor sighs tearfully, "how could I live…without love?! Without love? Without…?" He kicks the saber away, letting the tears fall. Kes and Seven vanish: Both looking to the EMH Doctor in very much mixed relief. Captain Janeway's hologram vanishes. But, Captain Janeway herself comes running in. And, she and the EMH Doctor embrace each other: Silently sobbing, on the stage.

From the EMH Doctor's Quarters…

The weight of the galaxy's stage came crashing down on us. Built up doubt threatening to tear the final curtains apart. But thankfully…the final curtains parted on a fairly happier note. And, if the musical notes can play on for us…then it's worth every high note and low note. As a old Earth expression goes…"nothing more need be said".


	7. Season 6: The Voyager Conspiracy

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

The Voyager Conspiracy:

On the USS Voyager, from Chakotay's Quarters…

First Officer's personal log, Stardate 53592.86. Moderate sigh. Years of coming together as a crew, in more ways than one… And yet, there can still be a time when the cloth unravels. We should have been more suspicious: When Seven said "the Graviton Catapult was assembled by Tash, and Tash alone." For one thing, Tash "supposedly" had a crew helping him build it. Wait. I'm getting ahead of myself here. Deep breath.

Ok, from the start. Seven and B'Elanna were doing a test run of Seven's latest project: A Borg cortical processing subunit. We had several Borg alcoves still around the cargo bay to spare. In theory, it could be connected to Astrometrics: Pinpointing warships before they came about to fire, or anomalies before we hit the first bump. Would be a ideal way to navigate in the Delta Quadrant. But, what are the chances of finding a way to get home…in the same day? Moderate sigh. Too damn hopeful: That's what. But then again…who are we to judge? After all… Slight chuckle. Out here, stranger things have happened.

In Chakotay's eyes…

On the Bridge, Chakotay is in the Captain's chair. Harry Kim reports, "I'm picking up some graviton fluctuations, about ten light years away." Tuvok figures, "curious. Astrometrics didn't pick them up sooner?" Chakotay slightly sighs, "guess exploration off course wasn't part of the equation. I'll break the news to Seven and B'Elanna." He starts getting up, "Tom, alter course."

A little uneasy, Tom Paris turns to Chakotay, "but…the Captain had her heart set on that nebula." Chakotay pauses solemnly, "moderate sigh. I know she hasn't been in the "best" mood, Tom. But, it's what she would want." Tom Paris slightly nods, "yeah. You're right. Altering course." Chakotay slightly smiles bittersweetly. As he heads for the turbolift, Seven and B'Elanna are already coming out of the turbolift: Looking for him. And as a fairly recent notable personal change, Seven's hair is styled like Captain Janeway's: Only curled more around the sides of her face, because of her fairly long hair.

Chakotay rubs his eyes, still a little disoriented by the image. Trying to have it go unnoticed, he says quickly, "you wanted to see me?" A little smug, B'Elanna adds, "yeah. Seven thinks a couple of insects are disrupting the power flow." Knowing her all too well, Chakotay figures, "you have a bet going on, don't you?" B'Elanna concludes, "yep. Loser gets a duty shift of cooking with Neelix." Tom Paris slightly chuckles, "ouch." Seven adds, "which will very unlikely be me, Lieutenant Torres." Harry Kim slightly chuckles, "come on, Tom. Neelix isn't that bad." Tom Paris remarks, "who's talking about Neelix? Between B'Elanna and Seven, our lunch is screwed over."

Chakotay slightly chuckles, "all right. Let's take a look." He follows B'Elanna and Seven to the Mess Hall. Harry Kim says lowly, "something about "carry a big phaser"?" Tom Paris slightly chuckles.

Twenty or so minutes later, Chakotay, B'Elanna, and Seven are coming back up to the Bridge. A straight faced Captain Janeway is standing in front of the viewscreen, already having come out of her Ready Room. Harry Kim confirms, "yep: It's the same graviton readings." Captain Janeway says, "all right." She turns to Seven and B'Elanna, "so, may I ask who won?"

B'Elanna moderately sighs, "Seven. Apparently, her processing subunit takes no prisoners: Even calculated the photonic fleas's vertical and horizontal lines over the plasma manifolds." Seven smugly smiles to herself. Captain Janeway moderately sighs, "I feel for you." B'Elanna adds, "thank you." She heads to the Main Engineering station on the Bridge. Captain Janeway orders, "take us out of warp." Tom Paris confirms, "yes, ma'am."

Seven adds, "for lunch, I'd like some light beer and roasted chicken." B'Elanna shoots back lowly, "yes, I'd like to make this ship a little lighter. Thank you for asking." Seven rolls her eyes, but thinks better of saying anything. Tom Paris and Harry Kim struggle to hold back their laughter. Captain Janeway slightly sighs, "this is going to be one of those days. I just know it." Chakotay slightly chuckles uneasily, "bound to be some more of those." Captain Janeway slightly nods, "on screen." The viewscreen shows a open silvery wire like pad, with several graviton projectors making up a Graviton catapult. On either side is a silvery probe of a space station. Traces of a graviton surge float about.

Chakotay reports, "they're hailing us." Captain Janeway says, "onscreen."

The viewscreen cuts to a mostly black spotted alien named Tash: With a mostly pinkish brown head, and a beaver tail like crested forehead. Somewhat shaky, he slightly sighs, "I recommend maximum shielding." Captain Janeway slightly nods to Tuvok. He reports, "shields to full."

Tash checks, "there are…a few technical issues I haven't worked out. Was your ship damaged?" Captain Janeway mostly assures, "no. But, your apparatus appears to be destabilizing. Maybe we can be of help." Concernedly, Tash slightly chuckles, "really? My own crew can't get near it, and inoculations are in short supply." Another graviton surge goes off, but Voyager's shields hold in place. Chakotay figures, "we're short on time to prepare some. But, maybe we can repair the source." Tash looks warily, "and, what's all this hospitality going to cost me?" Chakotay slightly smiles, "nothing." Tash slightly chuckles, "huh."

From Chakotay's Quarters…

Yeah. Huh. That's when we got a first look at the Graviton Catapult. Two Tetryon reactors were at its core. And, with them, it had the power to catapult Voyager back to Earth's welcome mat. Slight chuckle. Seven was suspicious from the start, because of Tetryon reactors having been part of the Caretaker's Array. We did though put the question to Seven's new processing subunit. And yet… All Seven could say was, "the Graviton Catapult was assembled by Tash, and Tash alone." Moderate sigh.

When we remotely fixed the Graviton Catapult, it seemed very real. The processing subunit wasn't malfunctioning. But, our "visions" of Seven were.

In Chakotay's eyes…

In Astrometrics, Chakotay is with Seven. The Astrometrics screen is full of green Borg symbol grid jumble, flying in all directions. A nearly shouting Seven says, "computer, seal the doors. Deactivate all sensors within this room." The computer adds, "acknowledged." Lowly sounding, Chakotay turns to Seven, "Seven, what the hell is this about?!" Seven moderately sighs, "given the circumstances…it was logical to tell you this alone. I believe our crew is being spied on." Chakotay says warily, "go on." Seven says, "Voyager's presence in the Delta Quadrant is no accident. The Borg Queen is responsible for stranding us here: And logically…so are the Borg."

Chakotay looks stunned, "that's quite a theory. But, the Borg Queen already tried to coerce you back into the Borg. And, as far as I can see, we are still talking about this universe. Why would the Borg Queen come back for another try, knowing what would happen to start with?" Seven figures, "because even when Voyager left spacedock, the Borg knew it was special. The Caretaker you met was a holographic fake. The Caretaker died years ago, and the Borg took over the Caretaker Array in his absence. But with the Caretaker Array destroyed, the Borg realized the hologram worked too well. I believe this Graviton Catapult is in fact the Caretaker Array: Rebuilt by the Borg, after years of reconstruction."

Seven goes on, "and now Voyager presents a unique opportunity to the Borg: A "Trojan Horse", to coin a expression. They're about to reactivate the remaining Borg alcoves they left us: To assimilate us all. Unless…you commandeer Voyager to safety." Interestingly, Chakotay slightly chuckles, "almost convinced me. Except for one thing: Seven has feelings, and you don't seem to have them." He has a phaser aimed directly at Seven.

Seven laughs, "that's where you're wrong, human." She shows her true form: A member of Species 8472, laughing telepathically in his mind. It slices its claws into a fearful Chakotay. Chakotay screams, as pale brown parasitic spots start eating away at his body. Then, as quickly as it happens…the screaming stops.

Chakotay wakes up, within a crater of a very dark green spider web like asteroid: On a matching medical bed. He sees a Starfleet doctor with medium dark blondish red hair, in a mostly jet black gray shouldered Starfleet uniform: Dr. Beverly Crusher. She checks in concern, "are you all right, Commander?" Chakotay slowly sits up, looking down at himself. He slightly chuckles, "like the attack never happened. Unless… How do I know you're real? Or, any of this?" Dr. Beverly Crusher sighs, "maybe you can explain it better, "Bullock"." She steps back, with the Species 8472 Admiral Bullock standing there.

Chakotay realizes very uneasily, "so, this is why we never heard back. You've been fighting your own war: With your own people." The Species 8472 Dr. Beverly Crusher moderately sighs, "or, what's left of us." Chakotay solemnly nods, "I know the feeling. I'm a Maquis leader...or at least in spirit. But, what about Voyager?" The Species 8472 Dr. Beverly Crusher mostly assures him, "Seven and your Captain were nearly killed, but we pulled them out in time as well. As for the rest of your humanoid crew…we don't have much time left." Captain Janeway is recovering in a medical bed, opposite Chakotay: Bright white spider web like genetic injectors restoring her DNA from Species 8472 parasites.

Suspecting already what's coming, Chakotay wonders, "in time from what?"

The Species 8472 Admiral Bullock slightly sighs, "our "superiors" are planning to purge the galaxy: And, they picked your crew as a "Trojan Horse" to pull it off."

From Chakotay's Quarters…

Yeah. One of those days? Deep sigh. We found out it was actually much worse: Me and the Captain. Seven…needed more time to emotionally recover. And, we respected her wishes. "Boothby" and "Archer"…of Species 8472: Dead, because of their superiors. Ever since that agreement within their Terrasphere was reached, Species 8472's military saw fit to "purge" any sympathizers to our galaxy: Of their own people. Most every member of Species 8472 came to "Boothby's" and "Archer's" cause. But… there's only sixty three left. And, "Bullock" is the only survivor of Terrasphere 8. That scared the hell out of me.

That wasn't even the worst of it, obviously. But also because…they were dying. They've been in hiding for eight months, in their reconfigured Terrasphere. But, without Fluidic Space to so much as pass through… Deep sigh. It took a heavy toll. "Dr. Crusher's" work has helped with a treatment: Longer lasting genetic alteration. But, it's only temporary: Six months at best. Moderate sigh. And with humanoid forms, their telepathy is very limited: Species 8472 would wipe them out with a single thought, if they got close enough. So, they needed our help to stop them. They've informed me that they call themselves Species 8473, hoping to be recognized as better species than what they originally were.

And on a philosophical level, I can't say I disagree. Species 8473 knew our weaknesses, our defenses…and they never forced us into anything. We were hesitant on some level…that they would still see us as "primitive". But, we were surprised by their kindness. All of these details were too much to take in all at once: Unless they were to pass on the information to us, through telepathy.

When Species 8473 first had humanoid forms, their brains suffered from telepathic withdrawal. And so, they thought of a way around it: Kissing. For Species 8473, it's something of a ceremonial ritual among themselves. And, they offered to pass on the information that way. Yeah. Slight nervous chuckle. Most awkward day I ever had, by far. Probably for the Captain as well.

But, even if it was…she sure as hell didn't show it. The Captain suggested a Vulcan mind meld, like we were on a diplomatic mission: Said it might give us both headaches, but that they'd be more manageable. Slight chuckle. Guess she succeeded in her "mission".

Now all that was left was our mission: To save our crew, and the entire galaxy. The Captain experienced a "vision" of Seven herself, in her Ready Room: While I experienced mine in Astrometrics. Through the mind melds, we had discovered the real illusions from what was real. The Graviton Catapult, and members of Species 8472 as "Tash" and "Seven" were the illusions: Not the Caretaker. The image of Seven was the key to the telepathic attacks upon the crew, one way or another. So together, through reestablishing the mind melds… We created a telepathic attack of our own.

In Chakotay's eyes…

The Terrasphere's spider web like walling is fading off like rain: A very disorienting rain of thoughts. Chakotay finds himself soaked, in the blurring green gases of Fluidic Space. He struggles to breathe under the organic fluidity, but holds on: Shutting his eyes against the stinging gas. He hears the telepathic echoes of Species 8473's words, "deep breaths. Almost…there, Commander. Our species…have more in common…than we liked…to think. But, we're…the better species…because we…see through human eyes. And…we're not threatened. Glad…even: Whatever…happens." Chakotay slightly chuckles, "thank…you."

Chakotay opens his eyes, on a nightmare of a Voyager. He ducks behind a flaming corridor corner. Cardassians with orange red Pah-Wraith auras are marching through Voyager's burning decks, led by a Pah-Wraith possessed Seven. Emergency force fields are barely holding the decks together as it is. And, the Voyager Maquis crewmembers seem to be the only ones left onboard: Fighting for their lives with phasers. Pah-Wraith Seven mutters coldly, "we need to hit the Celestial Temple hard. Leave no survivors." The Pah-Wraiths echoes to each other, "leave no survivors." B'Elanna gets hurled straight through a burning corridor by pah-wraith Seven: Crashing into the warp core head on, and out cold with sickly purple bruises all over.

Chakotay runs for his Quarters, catching his breath at the door. And, in the shattered bathroom mirror…he sees Kellin's reflection. A little awkwardly, Kellin slightly chuckles, "Chakotay. For the moment, I'm glad to be alive. But, how…?"

In her head, Chakotay's voice reflects, "yeah, I can relate. In a nutshell, Kellin…none of this is real. Species 8472 is real…and they want to temporarily use our bodies to purge the Federation." Kellin shivers a little, "oh, great. Have any good news to tell?" She hears the Pah-Wraith Cardassians burning the door away. Chakotay slightly chuckles, "I know how to end this. Just get to the console, and I'll tell you." Kellin slightly nods, "ok. Moderate sigh." She's standing at the console. The door explodes, the pieces cutting into Kellin's side. Some dark red liquid drops from her side. Kellin shouts, "groan: Please, hurry!"

Chakotay hurriedly says, "ok, ok! Repeat after me: Computer, access Astrometrics processing subunit. Authorization Chakotay-blue-ea-5-2-9. Shut down emergency force fields." In her head, Kellin's voice argues, "but, that would kill us all! There has to be…" Slightly sighing, Chakotay whispers, "if this doesn't work, we won't be around to argue about it. Please…trust me."

In Kellin's head, it all goes by in seconds. She repeats the words out loud, as a Pah-Wraith Cardassian phaser blasts her. Kellin is slightly burned in her back. But…she doesn't feel pain. The emergency force fields go down, sucking out all the flames: But, not the air. The impossibility alone has most of the Voyager Maquis looking around. And then, it suddenly hits them: None of it is real. B'Elanna wakes up, as though nothing happened. She slightly chuckles, "I believe you've just made your last step." B'Elanna phaser stuns Seven, forcing the Pah-Wraiths out. And, the scene clears away.

For who knows how long later, Chakotay is beamed back into his Quarters: Finding himself standing very close to Kellin. All of Voyager is back in one piece. Stunned Voyager Maquis crewmembers and Starfleet crewmembers are lying out in the corridors everywhere: Including B'Elanna, Tom Paris, Harry Kim, and Tuvok. Even the EMH Doctor's mobile emitter is left offline: Thanks to Species 8472 tapping into and overwhelming the Borg nanoprobes attached to its backside, with their telepathy. But, his program is intact inside it.

Kellin slightly chuckles, embracing Chakotay. She whispers, "sorry I doubted you." Chakotay embraces her. He says assuredly, "it's all right. What's important is…we're back." In the heat of the moment, they start making out. And, they head to the bed: Enjoying the moment, while it lasts.

Meanwhile, Captain Janeway beams back to her Ready Room: Having just saved the Starfleet crew from very similar telepathic delusions. Only, with Seska and Culluh's Kazon sect seemingly back from the dead. Captain Janeway quickly heads onto the vacant Bridge, to see a sickening sight on the viewscreen: Species 8472, floating lifelessly past Voyager's hull. With very mixed feelings, Captain Janeway sighs hard to herself, "not sure who to feel more sorry for: Us…or them."

In Chakotay's Quarters…

Moderate sigh. We were just thankful to be alive. For Kathryn…and for just about everyone else… Moderate sigh. The experience was… Overwhelming. But out here…stranger things have happened. And, much more violating things. So, we've been through worse. Kathryn would have wanted to be alone anyway. Well… Slight nervous chuckle. As alone as you could be, with Species 8473 waiting to see if you're alive. Thankfully, they acknowledged that as well.

The next day, everyone was up. And, we weren't sure what to think ourselves. Species 8472 committed suicide, because none of them wanted to be captured by us. Deep sigh. Maybe with more time, Species 8472 as a whole could have grown to respect us: As a species. But given what I and the Captain have seen for ourselves…I doubt it would ever have been possible.

On the other hand, something good came out of all of this: Species 8473, with good people that can now go home again. Thanks to this crew. But, largely thanks to Seven. She offered the processing subunit to them. And, we didn't say no either. Astrometrics may not be Borg perfection…but it's already good enough for us to get home. And, Species 8473 needed it more: Because, they were slowly dying. And, they had very limited telepathy. They needed a higher degree of telepathy to open a quantum singularity.

It'd normally take several months for them to reverse their genetic modifications: Fully revert back to their original bodies. Possibly one month too long. For the many that still wanted to, that is. But, the processing subunit should provide them with a medical solution…in just under a month. A few members of Species 8473 wanted their genetic modifications to be permanent. Among them was "Dr. Crusher." But, the same applies here. "Dr. Crusher" and "Bullock" said they'll keep in touch with us. In the meantime…Species 8473 is out there: Offering assistance to anyone that needs it. Honestly…slight sigh…I can't say stranger things have happened. But, we couldn't be more proud of them.


	8. Over to S6: Homestead

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

Homestead:

On the Baxial, from Neelix's logs…

Recording branch 12-23-77, file…1. The first one. Moderate sigh. Seems like only yesterday, since I said goodbye to Voyager. Sniffle. Been on the move…for who knows how long. But, part of me just can't let go. And, I wouldn't trade it for anything. Admittedly, at first…it was only because Kes wanted to stay. But, the warmth on the ship…it sort of grew on me.

And even when Kes ascended for the stars… Slight chuckle. I stayed. And looking back, some part of me knew it was for the best. She could never have those feelings for me again…because she changed: Since she was violated by that…that mind crapper Tieran! What I wouldn't give to be able to stop him.

Deep sigh! Where was I? Ohh. Yes. Kes. I'd just slow her down. Sure, she could always come back: I knew that from the start. But, I would never be the one for her…or be up there without making a mess of things. I may have many skills, but not when it comes to quantum mechanics…or predicting the future.

Speaking of the future, what really are the chances of finding my own people…again? Slight sigh. Ok. Technically speaking…they are not and yet are. If Mr. Vulcan were here, he would be telling me I'm "sounding too illogical". But the thing is… When they are a part of who I am, who cares about logic? Who cares where they came from?! Slight chuckle. After all, they'll always be Talaxian to me. And, with my homeworld destroyed…how often do I get a chance to fight for my people? Or, to find love? Not very. That much is certain.

In Neelix's eyes…

In Voyager's Mess Hall, a mostly yellow neon lit jukebox with sliver sides is in the corner: Made out of most of the replicator rations for the night. It's First Contact Day, several months past to make up for lost time: With Voyager from one adventure to the next in the Delta Quadrant. The stardate is 53865.087. Zeframe Cochrane's rock and roll tunes roll through the room.

At the side of the Mess Hall counter, Neelix sighs, "you sure, Doctor? Looking to the greats of the Alpha Quadrant, I thought you'd be pleased. They're Zeframe Cochrane's favorite, after all." The EMH Doctor slightly chuckles lowly, "Neelix. Just because I look to the greats…doesn't mean I don't learn from their bad habits. Zeframe Cochrane was indeed a great man. But, with all due respect to history…he was also a drunk who could find "nutritional value" in tequila." Absentmindedly, Neelix figures, "well, I'm sure he lived "long and prosper" by him." Captain Janeway passes by, slightly smiling at the EMH Doctor.

He says, "that's putting it…mildly. Would you excuse me, Mr. Neelix?" Neelix slightly chuckles, "ahh. Of course, Doctor." The EMH Doctor slightly smiles in acknowledgement: Walking over to the "dance floor" to join Captain Janeway for a dance. Most every crewmember here and about are on the "dance floor": Their champagne glasses left at their tables. Chakotay and Kellin are in a secluded corner of the Mess Hall, talking at "close quarters" with their champagne. In her mostly reddish orange overalls, Naomi looks to Neelix, "what's wrong?" He slightly chuckles, "oh hello, Naomi. Didn't see you there. Nothing is wrong. Just… Moderate sigh. Everyone has themselves a dance partner but me." Naomi reasons, "you miss Kes, don't you?" Neelix nervously adds, "it's that obvious?"

Naomi shrugs, "maybe. But, I'm just one individual." Neelix concludes, "no. We're all special, Naomi: We make our own paths." Naomi slightly smiles, "thanks, Neelix." Then, from the Bridge…and over Neelix's combadge… Acting Captain Tuvok reports, "Mr. Neelix. Please report to Astrometrics at once." Neelix politely excuses himself, saying goodbye to Naomi.

He walks into the kitchen. Over combadge, Neelix checks annoyedly, "can't it wait? The party's…!" Irritatedly sounding, Tuvok figures, "I am afraid it cannot. Moderate sigh. However, you have my sympathy." Neelix wonders uneasily, "you all right there, Mr. Vulcan? You sound…" Over combadge, Tuvok mutters, "it is only a temporary loss of hearing, Mr. Neelix. Provided you get down here." Neelix moderately sighs, "sorry. I'll be right there."

Several minutes later, he gets to Astrometrics: Relieving a very thankful Tuvok's attention from Astrometrics. And, Neelix soon finds out why: It's a open channel from ISS B'Elanna…or at least who he thought was ISS B'Elanna. But…the untamed hair and dark red rimmed mostly dark gray Klingon armor plating should've given it away. ISS B'Elanna also no longer has ocular-cortical Borg systems: Yet, not even a scar. Around her is the mostly dark gray walling of a Klingon household. Neelix says, "umm…begging your pardon, B'Elanna. But, I don't understand. Why would anyone in the Mirror Universe want to see me?" ISS B'Elanna laughs hard, barely catching her own breath. She sighs solemnly, "sorry. You really don't know me, do you?" Neelix figures, "sorry. But, I don't."

ISS B'Elanna breaks it down, "all right. Six years ago… You were too scared to fight for your people. Yet, you would fight for them now in glory. You liked making "bold experiments". You had a crisis of faith, but you still believed in the Great Forest." Nearly speechless, Neelix starts saying, "how could you…?!" A dark purple telepathic glow appears over a impatient ISS B'Elanna. And then, it finally dawns on Neelix. He realizes, "Kes and B'Elanna…combined as one?"

The telepathically glowing ISS B'Elanna laughs sarcastically, "took you long enough. But Neelix, just to be clear…we're from the same universe." Neelix slightly sighs, "sure. Funny no one told me though: About Kes."

The telepathically glowing ISS B'Elanna implies, "long story. But…call me K'Elanna. I've found it to be less awkward sounding than B'Elanna." Neelix slightly nods, "oh, don't worry about it. I know exactly what you mean. Slight chuckle. I was part of a combined person myself…once." K'Elanna slightly laughs, "too bad we don't have much time for our…long stories."

Neelix wonders, "why? What's wrong?" K'Elanna sighs heavily into her hands, "Dor sho Gha!" She looks up, "sorry: It isn't you. I just…sometimes get lost in my thoughts. Slight uneasy laugh. Probably enough for a empire." Feeling a little hard of hearing himself, Neelix says, "no, it's fine. Really. Just please…slight sigh…a little quieter."

Teary eyed, K'Elanna heavily sighs, "no wonder Tuvok left in a hurry. Tell him I'm sorry for me?" Neelix figures, "sure. Although, it's nothing to get worked up about." K'Elanna figures, "no, that's not why I am. But…thanks. In my universe, the Talaxians are very much alive. But, scattered: Across the galaxy. And, a Talaxian colony is in the Beta Quadrant: Cowardly giving in to the will of Petaqs! Heavy sigh. But…they're good people. And, they need our help."

From the Baxial, in Neelix's cockpit…

Slight uneasy chuckle. Ok. With K'Elanna, I guess I did care where she came from. But, she is a combined person. How can I not care about that? Sure, Tuvix is gone: But, deep down… Me and Tuvok knew…that it was never meant to be: That it was just a transporter accident. Ok, Tuvok did. But, I realized it afterwards. But, the mirror Kes and mirror B'Elanna… They wanted to combine. Well, mirror Kes's spirit with mirror B'Elanna's body. But, still: Deep down, she's a sweeting. Can't even get enough of my Talchok musk. Where was I?

Oh, yes. On one hand, I had the chance to come home: To my people. On the other hand, after the Terran Empire crumbled to dust…the mirror Beta Quadrant has become a neutral zone. And, the mirror Chakotay didn't even dare to send ships in there. Not even willing to try, the war hero bastard! I don't know what K'Elanna could ever see in him. But, deep down…moderate sigh…I suppose I can. Even if I'd rather not. And, bringing in Federation help was very likely out of the question: No doubt the Talaxians would look the other way. So, it was all up to me and K'Elanna. With Kes's abilities…she could control a starship blindfolded. Slight nervous chuckle. No. That wasn't why I was scared.

I was scared I would fail my people again: That somehow, I'd be responsible for the colony's death. I trust Kes…in any universe. And, I wanted to know exactly what I was getting into. K'Elanna was more than happy to help: Even personally offered to take me there to show me for myself…on one of those subspace tunnel "things". But, I couldn't go without telling the Captain.

I found out the mirror me has been dead for years…and that the mirror B'Elanna's lover Tuvok was a traitor. That was a very awkward moment for me. Moderate sigh. But…it was a necessary one. This one was no different. I was a little scared: Of being ordered not to go. Moderate sigh. Sure, I would disobey orders for something this big. But, they're like family to me. And, I wouldn't want to have to go behind their backs to defend that colony.

In Neelix's eyes…

In Captain Janeway's dimly lit Quarters, Neelix faces Captain Janeway. She tells the replicator, "coffee, black." A cup of coffee appears. Captain Janeway sighs hard in her chair, sipping her coffee. She says, "it's getting late. So, bear with me. This mirror Beta Quadrant…it's a neutral zone. But, it's not a non-aggressive pact?" Neelix slightly sighs, "supposedly because it's a too volatile area of space to "fire phasers in". But K'Elanna says…" Captain Janeway turns to him, "K'Elanna?" Neelix figures, "mirror Kes and mirror B'Elanna as a combined person. You do believe me, don't you?" Captain Janeway drinks some of her coffee. She sighs hard, "still wrapping my head around that last part. But, yes. But, can't this wait until morning…when we can all discuss it as a crew?"

Neelix figures, "by morning, it may be too…late. Are you suggesting…?" Captain Janeway slightly chuckles, "Kes has gone back in time before. Mirror Kes has as well: She just needs to remember she can."

With some relief, Neelix moderately sighs, "thank you, Captain." Captain Janeway slightly nods, "you're welcome." Neelix is heading out the door, when he turns to her. He voices in perplexion, "umm…Captain? Something just occurred to me. You didn't even bring up the Prime Directive." Captain Janeway slightly smiles, "I won't tell Starfleet if you won't."

Neelix slightly smiles back, "I… I don't know what to say." Captain Janeway figures, "you can tell… The mirror Kes part of her the good news. Every time I try to understand this "non-corporealness", I get a headache! Slight sigh. But, we should still discuss this in the morning. See if there's a way to get through this without bloodshed." Neelix mostly assures, "I'd do no such thing, Captain. But, the Mirror Universe is a violent place: Out there, fighting may be the only reasonable thing to do." Finishing her coffee, Captain Janeway says contemplatively, "I fear you're not wrong, Mister Neelix."

From the Baxial, in Neelix's cockpit…

And, that sense of fear was not far off at all. Deep sigh! At least my friends on Voyager were on my side. But, still. With the crumpling of the Terran Empire, several empires were rising up the treetops of life.

Fifty years ago… I think it was fifty. Anyway, the mirror Klingon Empire got a fleet together in one last stand. Heavy casualties on both sides. And, a hollow victory for the Terran Empire. Yet, a Klingon bird-of-prey has come back from that battle: With cryogenics, in what was to be a surprise attack at the heart of the Terran Empire. But, its crew had other ideas now: Talaxian slave labor in the empire pool. What mind crappers! But, I suppose the Mirror Universe is still full of mind crappers. There's been so much crap in the Mirror Universe, that it's hard to see much else. Or, to climb away from it.

In Neelix's eyes...

In the Mirror Universe Beta Quadrant, asteroid fields circle around what's left of the Terran Empire's war. This quadrant, victim to many passing through displacement waves, has no planets: Only moons, left over from the gradually boiling over Klingon and Romulan homeworlds. Orange and red nebulas are what's left of planetary cores: From nebulous torpedoes, to being deadly miniature stars. The Baxial is coming out of a dark purple subspace corridor, barely passing out of a very dark red miniature star nebula. At the helm, Neelix slightly chuckles nervously, "umm…K'Elanna? About that "supposedly" too volatile part?" In the seat at his side, K'Elanna laughs hard, "oh, this?! If the heat is getting to you..." Neelix slightly sighs, "only a little. But, I have no intention of turning back."

Teary eyed, K'Elanna moderately sighs, "good. I… I know this is the worst time to tell you. But, for what it's worth…I think I love you." The Baxial hovers over a radiated dark red asteroid, away from the anomalies. Neelix slightly chuckles awkwardly, "what? You think I'll "die with honor"?"

K'Elanna figures, "no. Before going back to this time, we got to know our long stories. Deep inside you, there's a warrior spirit just waiting to come out. Slight chuckle. You just don't know it yet. My warrior spirit though… Heavy sigh. It's nothing to be proud of. As Kes, I killed in cold blood. And there's not a day that goes by…that I don't hate myself for that day. I'll understand perfectly if you don't want to see me again."

With a hand on hers, Neelix says sympathetically, "maybe it is. Deep sigh. But…you were enslaved by a mirror Captain Janeway. Forced to kill for her. You were hurt, and didn't know what else to do. How could you see another path, beyond the killing? I doubt you could've. But, if it helps…I'm sure Neelix would be proud of how far you've come. I know I am." K'Elanna sniffles, "really?" Neelix adds, "really." K'Elanna wipes away some bittersweet tears of hers. She heavily sighs, "that's sweet of you. Now, let's get these Petaq bastards." The Baxial resumes course, a minute away from the Talaxian colony's asteroid.

From the Baxial, in Neelix's cockpit…

The Talaxian colony didn't exactly send out a welcoming committee. And, I understand that that's pretty much the reason: Precisely because there's been so much crap in the Mirror Universe. But, they were more than willing to hear me out. Especially Brax. Slight chuckle. Young, but smart in his own way. K'Elanna and I had to work fast. Relatively speaking, of course. But, needless to say…they didn't trust K'Elanna either. So…

In Neelix's eyes…

A half hour of introductions later, Neelix stands alone before the colony: In the asteroid's caverns, with five hundred medium ginger haired Talaxians in dark green rags for clothes. The caverns have several blue ringed warp cores converted for geothermal energy. The heat generated from them alone melts the ice high above…into oxygen and water. They also power dark red torpedoes, converted into tunnel drillers. Neelix clears his throat nervously. He deeply sighs, "I come with a proposal…to protect you from the Klingons." A Talaxian councilman named Oxilon figures, "protect? Already, it's sounding like a bad idea."

A Talaxian boy named Brax shouts from the crowd, "and maybe some of us don't like running!" His Talaxian mother Dexa whispers harshly, "Brax!" But already, most of the crowd is arguing about it among themselves.

Oxilon calls out, "silence! Thank you. Now, continue your proposal: Slight laugh. It's not like it'll come to pass anyway." Neelix says determinedly, "we'll see about that, Oxilon. You have force field emitters. We could use them to establish a shield grid. We'd need to deploy a series of the emitters on the asteroid's surface: Through the tunnel drillers. Sixteen emitters should be enough to form a grid." Oxilon says reluctantly, "even if you're right, it'd take weeks to dig that many tunnels to the surface."

Neelix figures, "actually, we'd just need to connect the tunnel drillers to the emitters: Manually. There's already more than enough tunnels to channel in the ice, that we can just anchor them inside. But, we'd have to work quickly. Klaa's crew should be here any minute." Oxilon sighs heavily, "still…you're talking about fighting. I know you mean well, Neelix. But if we do what you're suggesting, people are going to get hurt…or die." Most of the crowd is silently in agreement, plenty scared. Not taking it anymore, Neelix calls out, "all right! Tell me something: All of you! No one has worked harder to build this place but you. And, now you just want to abandon it?!"

Dexa realizes, "you know…he's right. What's wrong with standing up for our home?!" Most of the crowd finds themselves agreeing with her. Neelix sighs heavily to Oxilon, "I don't like fighting either, Oxilon. But, at some point…you have to stand up for yourself." Oxilon and the rest of the crowd reluctantly agree.

From the Baxial, in Neelix's cockpit…

K'Elanna showed me the layout of the tunnels. But, the rest was all me. I wasn't sure I still had it in me: Ever since I was brought back to life that one time. But, K'Elanna helped me see it. I couldn't possibly ask for more. And what I could've asked…she already knew the answers. Almost felt as if… Slight chuckle. As if we dreamed each other, and the nightmares are finally fading away.

In Neelix's eyes…

A very shaded green twenty third century Klingon bird-of-prey is coming out of warp, over the asteroid. Inside are the Mirror Universe versions of Klaa and Vixis: With their very silver straps for Klingon armor over jet black leather, decorated with tainted gold rimmed tribal like jewelry. And standing in the back is ISS Captain Ransom himself. Nearly insanely, the black mullet haired ISS Klaa laughs, "target in sight, "Captain"! Wait. This is no colony. It's a chunk of rock." With her bun up hair, ISS Vixis reports in Klingon, "the colony is under the asteroid's surface, Captain. And, alive." ISS Klaa figures, "good. Now, do we get to light something up?" ISS Captain Ransom sighs hard, "don't get too cocky…soldier. Slight laugh. Looks like you got what you asked for."

The Baxial is coming out of the asteroid, on a intercept course for ISS Klaa's bird-of-prey. With a gray targeting scope, ISS Klaa laughs, "yes! Firing!" From the Baxial, Neelix checks, "now?" K'Elanna slightly laughs, "well, don't let me stop you." Neelix slightly chuckles, "unimatrix shielding…online." The bird-of-prey's disruptor blast bounces off the Baxial's unimatrix shielding: Tuvok's latest upgrade to the Baxial, with supplies attained through K'Elanna's powers.

ISS Klaa laughs, "this K'Elanna is good. Plot course zero one four…mark one. And, engage cloaking device." ISS Captain Ransom mutters, "they're about to fire. What kind of insane Klingon are you?!" ISS Klaa just laughs, "the kind of legends. Eng…!" ISS Captain Ransom phaser blasts him, burning him. No longer laughing, ISS Captain Ransom just punches him out. He mutters, "by Klingon law, I'm your captain…now. Targeting the surface, just off the starboard side."

ISS Vixis reluctantly says, "yes, sir." The bird-of-prey's disruptors blast off a chunk of asteroid, into the Baxial. The shielding overloads from the radiated rock. The Baxial rocks violently, but stays in place. Neelix crashes into the side of the cockpit. K'Elanna checks, "Neelix?!" Then the shield emitter grid goes online, slicing into the bird-of-prey's disruptors in the midst of its charge. ISS Vixis slightly laughs, "a "real victory", Captain." ISS Captain Ransom figures coldly, "close. It will be." Slightly bruised, Neelix gets up: Clutching his side. He slightly nods, "I'm fine. You?" K'Elanna slightly chuckles, "I am now."

ISS Captain Ransom and the Klingons beam aboard, about to fire. On the floor, Neelix shouts, "get down!" He swiftly takes out his phaser with his good side, stunning ISS Captain Ransom before he can fire. K'Elanna tumbles away from phaser fire. She slightly chuckles, "thanks for the help. Now, it's my turn." K'Elanna blasts dark purple telepathic lightning into the Klingons's disruptors. They explode, taking out the Klingons in one volley.

Neelix slightly chuckles, "wow! What a shot." K'Elanna slightly laughs, "thanks. You're not so bad yourself, Neelix. Maybe…you could take a "shot" on me sometime?" She stands up very close to him. Neelix says out loud, "I'd be delighted to. But, please…not right now." K'Elanna challenges, "give me one damn good reason why not." She feels up his bruised side. Neelix slightly sighs in nervousness, "what about the mirror Captain Ransom? I'm sure the mirror Chakotay would love to have him locked up in the Caretaker Array." Pulling away, K'Elanna mutters lowly, "damn! That is a pretty good one."

She and Neelix sit back down at the controls. Neelix figures awkwardly, "but…maybe after?" K'Elanna slightly smiles back, "I'll think about it. But right now…Oxilon is worried about you. And, I'm picking up multiple hails." Neelix slightly sighs, "ohh. I didn't realize." K'Elanna slightly laughs, "nor did I. But, it's all right."

From the Baxial, in Neelix's cockpit…

On Talaxia, my people have had a saying: The dream dreams the dreamer. Slight chuckle. Although, all of this was not merely a dream: It was two real dreams. Sniffle. It was hard to say goodbye to my universe…

In Neelix's eyes…

The Baxial is departing Voyager, with most of Voyager's crew waving from the Mess Hall windows. Including Captain Janeway. Neelix steers the Baxial for a forming dark purple subspace corridor: Teary eyed, but smiling. And, with K'Elanna at his side.

From the Baxial, in Neelix's cockpit…

But, I have found my sweeting.

In Neelix's eyes…

In K'Elanna's Klingon House of K'Elanna, there's a very dark room down the hall. And behind a rustic black closed door, Neelix and K'Elanna are making out wildly on the floor: All the cares of the Mirror Universe hung up to dry.

From the Baxial, in Neelix's cockpit…

For real this time. And…I couldn't possibly be any happier. End recording.


	9. Season 6: Unimatrix Zero(Sides A-B)

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

Unimatrix Zero(Sides A-B):

Side A

On the USS Voyager, from Seven's Borg Alcove…

Private log…sob…Seven of Nine, Stardate 53895.48. It feels so… So assimilating! Sob.

In Seven's eyes…

Seven mentally opens her eyes. She finds herself in a very dark and stormy forest, where the boulders and the trees with dangling jungle vines blend in dark greenish color. She hears footsteps and thunder. Seven runs…from the startling image of a gray leather clothed Cardassian calling for Annika. The Cardassian named Axum moderately sighs, his arms up in the air. Axum shouts lowly, "Annika! I'm unarmed. Please…come with me."

Seven pauses, catching her breath over a boulder. Between breaths, she mutters, "I'm…regenerating. This is…simply a dream." Axum walks slowly to her, "no, it isn't. This is Unimatrix Zero. Heavy sigh. You…really don't remember. Do you?" Seven shakes her head, "highly unlikely…on both matters. The Borg have no information regarding a Unimatrix Zero. Heavy sigh. But…that does not mean for sure it does not exist. Who are you?" Axum introduces himself, "Five of Twelve, secondary adjunct of Trimatrix Nine Four Two. But when I'm here…I am Axum. Sounding familiar?"

Seven admits awkwardly, "a little." Axum slightly chuckles, "good. It's starting to come back to you."

From Seven's Borg alcove…

Deep breath. Deep breath. Heavy sigh! Having eighteen years of a life I was completely unaware of…

In Seven's eyes, over the course of three physical days…

Within Unimatrix Zero, Seven is in a alcove of a cave: Carved out of a boulder, among many like it. A few torches light the underground passages between the caves. Rain is pouring outside. In the brighter light, Axum with medium black frontless hair sits across from Seven: In the middle of a wide bend in a passage. Off down another passage, children are playing: Including a certain child Seven saw, before coming down here. Axum explains, "Unimatrix Zero is our sanctuary. When we're here, our thoughts are our own." Seven wonders sarcastically, "and my "function"?" Axum slightly chuckles, "we don't think like the Borg. Our "function" is to try and regain as many fragments of our lives as we can…from before being assimilated. To see how we can personally move onward."

A bright yellow frontless haired mostly pink alien named Siral passes by, down the branching off passage. He casually says hello to them, before walking onward. As if being in a dream, Seven slightly sighs, "I remember him." A little nervously, Axum recalls, "you were friends. You…were a part of our lives for eighteen years. Knew a lot of people here: Including myself." Down from a second passage, a black mullet haired Klingon with a matching mustache is coming in their direction. His original name is General Korak. And, he doesn't look too happy. Seven concludes to Axum, "I'm willing to assist you and your people. But…I can not do it alone. I'm part of a starship crew now: My…present collective. I'll have to inform my Captain."

A mental hour later, Axum and Seven are out on a boulder: The rock face drying from the recent storm. Axum figures, "Laura's right. You don't have to look that way here." Seven insists, "no. I've just…preferred it. At least, in recent years." Looking out to the stars, Axum muses, "well…whatever you prefer to be called… Remember this. They may have turned us into drones…but they can't change the essence of who we are."

A few physical days after, the Borg Queen has already locked onto Unimatrix Zero's interlink frequency. And row after row of Borg drones are coming after Unimatrix Zero's civilians. Many of them are being fired down upon. Row after row fall with drops of dripping dark red liquid…or with whatever color liquid matches the Borg drone's original alien form. They vanish soon after. From high up in the tree branches, Unimatrix Zero civilians are firing crudely crafted dark brown tree bark crafted disruptor rifles at them: Hirogen, Klingon, Romulan, etc. Even Seven and Axum. But, the Borg are starting to gather around in teams to hurl boulders: Smashing into the snapping tree trunks.

Axum realizes uneasily, "they're adapting. Plan B!" Seven remarks, "I'm sure we can adapt according…ly." Thousands of the Unimatrix Zero civilians fall down to the waiting Borg drones: Screaming, as they crash land on the dirt ground. In their slowly dying breaths, they're assimilated back into the Borg collective by waiting Borg drones: Vanishing instantly, including Siral. Nine thousand or so Unimatrix Zero civilians barely swing away on vines. They run off, looking for cover behind far off boulders.

From Seven's Borg alcove…

…taken advantage of like this! Sob.

In Seven's eyes…

Axum mutters lowly, "we just lost thousands of people. If Captain Janeway can't…!" Seven insists, "Voyager's collective will not abandon you. I promise you that." Axum slightly nods. They duck for cover, as ten Borg drones just pass by. Axum finds his arm starting to feel Seven's side. He awkwardly says, "sorry."

Shakily, Seven stares at him. She nervously realizes, "that…felt familiar. We were not just friends…were we?!"

Axum whispers loudly, "do you want the Borg to assimilate us?! Moderate sigh. But…yes. Six years. While we were regenerating. A very memorable six years." Seven mutters, "I…do not believe that." With tears falling from her face, she glares, "you are a sad Cardassian bastard: Borg, or no Borg!" She vanishes, before a teary eyed Axum can protest.

On the USS Voyager, from Seven's Borg Alcove…

I shall never forgive Axum… Sob. For violating me. And, that is as much comfort as I can possibly find in him: Sob. That he will always know it could never be that way with me! But…sniffle…I suppose I can take enough comfort from that. For the preservation of my individuality.

The Doctor suggests there might yet be "admirable qualities" about Mister Axum. But for a violator like Mister Axum…any such qualities are irrelevant. To me, that is. Even Captain Janeway and Xana… They think it's possible that I'm having a over-reactive neurological state. And, that I should still give Axum a "second chance." Even if by some nano-second I thought Axum and I had a "admirably respectful" prior relationship… The fact that is very relevant is that Axum already had a "second chance"…and failed to impress me with any "admiral quality". Sob. Especially right in the middle of a war zone!

But…that is irrelevant for now. Sniffle. No matter how much it hurts. Sniffle. Deep breath. I will…continue with my assignment with Unimatrix Zero: To best preserve us all from the Borg. And, to come out of this mission with at least some sense of peace: With the knowledge that the Borg's time as a galactic power could very well be at a end.

In Seven's eyes, over the course of three physical days…

On the morning after realizing Unimatrix Zero is real, Seven is standing in the conference room: Facing the other Senior officers. She has already explained that Unimatrix Zero is real, with the EMH Doctor backing her up. Most of them get to their feet, finding it hard to believe themselves.

Tom Paris mutters lowly, "another round with the Borg?!" Seven heavily sighs, "usually…I would agree with you. But, with Unimatrix Zero, we would have a significant tactical advantage over a single vessel." Tom Paris slightly laughs, "oh, just one? Huh?" Seven figures, "yes. Besides, as far as I understand it... When we receive a distress call, we respond: Starfleet protocols or no Starfleet protocols." Harry Kim says solemnly, "she's right. This is no different."

B'Elanna mutters harshly, "unless the Borg assimilate us first…along with our "common sense" for trusting drones." Harry Kim and Seven glare at her: Quite shaken. Captain Janeway sighs hard in her hands. Chakotay is about to say something. But, Captain Janeway says it first, "at ease, B'Elanna! Please."

B'Elanna moderately sighs, "sorry." Tom Paris has a sympathetic hand on her leg, from under the table. Captain Janeway goes on, "I understand your reluctance: From all of you. Present company included. But, Seven's discovered a potential weakness in the Borg Collective. And before we decide how to proceed, I'd like to learn as much about it as we can. Understood?" No objections are heard. Captain Janeway sighs with relief, "good."

Two physical days later, all of Voyager's Senior staff is gathered around in Main Engineering. A teary eyed Seven struggles to avoid looking directly at anyone: In the presence of the other Senior officers. On a nearby console, a sensors readout of a Borg Tactical Cube is seen: Its menacing warped gray Rubik Cube like faces face the officers, with dark green Borg cutting beam arrays standing by on the edges. The EMH Doctor sighs heavily in protest, "Captain, can't we find another Borg ship? A sphere, maybe? Something less imposing?!"

B'Elanna reports reluctantly, "I rechecked long-range sensors myself. There's nothing: Slight sigh. Unless we have a subspace corridor "just lying around". But, I doubt it." Captain Janeway figures solemnly, "we'll just have to make do. This is our target. You'll keep a transporter lock on me and Kellin. Once I make it to the Central Plexus and release the virus, you can beam me back." The EMH Doctor says incredulously, "but dear…in how many pieces?! It's ridiculous! I mean, Captain." Captain Janeway slightly chuckles bittersweetly, "of course, Doctor. And I'm sure it's very touching. But..."

Still fairly teary eyed, Seven quickly offers, "on the contrary. I should go. I am the only former Borg drone onboard." Chakotay sighs deeply, "that may be true, Seven. But…all the more reason why you should stay onboard. For our "collective", you are our representative for Unimatrix Zero. They trust you, and they're your "long lost family" of sorts. Is there a problem?" Seven moderately sighs, "they're not all to be trusted, Commander. But… Sniffle. I am afraid you are not wrong either." She storms off, much to the awkwardness of everyone else.

Very much concerned, Harry Kim inquires, "what was that about?" Chakotay sighs deeply, "I don't know, Harry. But, as the morale officer onboard... I think it's best to let her be for now. Until she feels well enough to tell somebody. All right?" Most everyone quietly agrees, including Harry Kim.

From Seven's Borg alcove…

And with the success of this mission towards that end…it is worth preserving my sense of calmness: For as long as required of me, by my collective. Sniffle. Well, aside from enough sufficient time to personally recover myself. But admittedly… Heavy sigh! That is a "all too logical" understatement for my current neurological state. End log.

Side B

With Kellin, from Chakotay's Quarters on the USS Voyager…

Personal log, Stardate 54004.088. Years of being a Tracer, left behind. I thought it was always going to be that way. Slight bittersweet chuckle. No more sneaking around on vessels, no more running from who I really am. Because I decided to love someone: Against everything I was taught as a Tracer. As a part of a oppressive Ramuran government: Sniffle. Best left forgotten in the dust.

Because…I met Chakotay. My lover. Slight chuckle. Still find it quite amazing from time to time. How every time we pull each other close…time itself goes still. Like we were always meant to be together, and our spirit guides would always be each other: Even through death.

And, there's Chakotay's family…on Voyager. Now my family on Voyager. I'm honored to serve with them. Slight sigh. Sure, it hasn't always been wonderful: Out among the stars and oppressors of the Delta Quadrant, still looking for a way home in a whole other quadrant. Sure, the last three days were nothing like that. Moderate sigh. But, we've had our share of wonderful moments too. Like…several nights ago: Slight chuckle. Before my darkest day yet.

In Kellin's eyes…

In Main Engineering, the lights are out. But, the Red Alert doesn't go off. B'Elanna turns to Joe Carey, "Lieutenant, what the hell just happened?" In the darkness, he slightly chuckles, "you can relax, Lieutenant. All controls are functioning normally. Probably just a glitch with the lights." B'Elanna presses a button at her station, turning back on the lights. She calls out, "false alarm, everyone! Back to your stations." B'Elanna turns back to Joe Carey, "but, work on that glitch." He slightly nods, "will do." B'Elanna adds warily, "thanks." She thinks she hears a Jefferies Tube open and close: From up on the second level.

B'Elanna heads up there by lift. And sitting on the main second level console is a dark green bottle…with a replicated parchment rolled up inside. A gold ring is tied around the cork, with some gold string. B'Elanna wonders curiously, "what's this?" She uncorks the bottle and unrolls the parchment: Finding the message to be addressed to her. The message is as follows:

My "Captain Proton" is looking for a "First Mate". My "thrust" aches for your "warp core". Will you marry me? Tom Paris.

And as B'Elanna reads it, she can't help but smile. Quite amused, she chuckles, "cute: Real cute, Tom. You can come out now."

Around this time, Kellin decloaks her Ramuran cloaking device: In the nearby Jefferies tube junction, where Tom Paris eagerly is waiting for a report. Tom Paris checks uneasily, "well?" Kellin slightly chuckles, "mission accomplished, Tom. She should be reading it any minute now." Tom Paris says, "perfect. You don't suppose she would be into threesomes, do you?" Kellin glares sarcastically at him: In a what-do-you-think kind of way. Tom Paris slightly chuckles, "I'm kidding…mostly." Kellin slightly sighs, "just when I thought there was hope for you. See you later." Tom Paris slightly chuckles, "see you later."

B'Elanna is already coming up the Jefferies Tube. She wonders, "Tom? You…?" A little startled, Tom Paris slightly chuckles, "sorry. I was just… Umm… Practicing my vows." B'Elanna figures, "Kellin was just here, wasn't she?" Tom Paris starts to say, "maybe. But, I wasn't…!" B'Elanna whispers suggestively, "I know. What say we take this to my Quarters…for a little celebration before the "big day"?" She holds out the dark green bottle from under her arm: With the parchment left inside. But, she has the ring on her finger.

Tom Paris slightly chuckles jokingly, "a little celebration? How long have you known me?" B'Elanna chuckles. She kisses him passionately, the bottle still under her arm. B'Elanna smiles back, "I'll be there." Tom Paris slightly chuckles, "can't wait." He starts heading out of the Jefferies Tube the opposite way, much to B'Elanna's amusement.

From Chakotay's Quarters…

Almost like a brother I never knew I had. Slight chuckle. Almost. I'm something of a free spirit…but not in that "direction".

Ever since we met… Wherever Chakotay goes, we've always faced it together. No matter how bad it got. But…moderate sigh…this felt different.

I wasn't here when Seven was manipulated into joining the Borg Queen. We had plenty of salvaged Borg components already. But, replicator rations were getting dangerously low. So, we were off on a uninhabited moon: Me, with Beta Squad. Mining for radioactive minerals for replicator rations. By the time we got back to Voyager, we were informed that Seven has "joined the Collective." Moderate sigh. Although it turned out that that was far from the truth, we had our doubts. I barely even knew her then.

Now, if it wasn't for her ocular implant…it'd be easy to see her as always having been part of the crew. Just a really intelligent officer. Slight chuckle. But, I know her better than that: She is very much like a sister to me. Agony Stimulator, or no Agony Stimulator. So when Unimatrix Zero came along… I already had a feeling I could trust them.

But, ever since I left Ramura for good… Moderate sigh. I've always found myself turned off by unit numbering. It's reminded me too much of Tracers…and of our former designations.

When I found out about what happened with Seven and that no good bastard Axum…! Sniffle. I wanted to detain the bastard for what he did.

But, how could I…physically? With our fight against the Borg, we had bigger concerns. Besides, even if it was a option…I didn't find out until days later.

But, I can certainly understand why: Two years ago, all my memories were almost taken away…by Curneth. When that happened, I wanted so much to go back to the way I thought. The way things were for me and Chakotay, before Curneth came. Moderate sigh. Sniffle. But…Seven wasn't as lucky.

Because, none of her memories were erased. A new dickish memory came: And, it wasn't taken away. Though I can only assume it would feel just as hurtful. I felt for her: Sniffle. Even B'Elanna did.

But, Axum is only one person out of thousands. Even if he is a bastard.

We still had every reason possible to trust Unimatrix Zero. I'm sure I trusted Species 8473 to help us: But because of my reluctance with unit numbering, I still had a lingering doubt. That all went away though…when their Terrasphere came to join us in the Borg revolution: For Unimatrix Zero's individualities, and a way of hope for the Borg to follow.

In Kellin's eyes…

From the USS Voyager's Bridge, Chakotay is in the Captain's chair. He orders, "report." Tom Paris is in the Commander's chair, while Gryzil is at the Helm. Xana is at Sensors, while Harry Kim is at Astrometrics. Mariah is at Tactical this time. She reports, "direct hit to their cutting beam arrays. Minimal damage!" Chakotay voices determinedly, "keep at it. We need a clear path." The Borg Tactical Cube is facing Voyager and Species 8473's Terrasphere: Firing its cutting beam arrays at both vessels. The Terrasphere gets a chunk of asteroid cut off, but it holds position. Voyager takes a direct hit, the Bridge shaking violently.

Chakotay calls out, "report!" Xana deduces, "our shields are fried. But, unless the Borg start a barbecue with the bulkheads…we can all hold out." Off the Bridge, Holodecks 1-2 of Voyager have been temporarily diverted to another function: Specifically for Unimatrix Zero civilians.

With help from reconfiguring most of Astrometrics's circuitry and somewhat simulating Agony Stimulator programming, that is. Backup copies of personality and memory matrixes of the unassimilated Unimatrix Zero civilians are being stored in the holodecks: To the degree of storing inactive holographic representations of every single one of them. They're there for the Unimatrix Zero civilians to transfer to to regroup, in case the Borg collective is about to assimilate any of them. And with the Agony Stimulator programming, any of them can inhabit bodies of other Borg drones to attack the Borg Collective: Even if the original body is re-assimilated. But…that's very much limited to the same Borg vessel where the original body was to start with.

On Voyager's Bridge, Chakotay slightly chuckles, "good. Keep us close, Gryzil: But, keep them guessing." Gryzil slightly chuckles, "they'll be seeing double in no time, "Cap"." Mariah adds, "firing torpedoes." Species 8473's Terrasphere fires several deep blue electrodynamic blasts into the Borg Tactical Cube, weakening their shield emitters in ionized cloud bursts. Voyager spin turns about, circling around the same spot. In its trick turn, Voyager launches a full spread of torpedoes: Overloading two of the already regenerating shield emitters.

In Astrometrics, Harry Kim checks over communications, "how are you holding up?" On a side console, the Species 8473 Dr. Beverly Crusher is shown on its screen. She slightly chuckles, "fairly well, actually. But, we don't know how long we can hold this position." Harry Kim mostly assures, "just a few more minutes…and we won't have to find out." The Species 8473 Dr. Beverly Crusher concludes, "I hope so, Lieutenant." Harry slightly sighs, "same here."

On Voyager's Bridge, Tom Paris suggests nervously, "where's the Delta Flyer?" Xana concludes, "no worries, Tom: They haven't been detected. Heading Zero One Seven…mark Three." Tom Paris moderately sighs with relief, "good." Chakotay adds over communications, "Harry, tell "Dr. Crusher" that we should break orbit in one minute." From Astrometrics, Harry Kim reports, "yes, sir."

Around this time, the Delta Flyer is closing in within fifty kilometers: With Kellin at the Helm. And Captain Janeway, Tuvok, and B'Elanna are preparing to beam into the Borg Cube. Captain Janeway checks, "status?" From Sensors, Tuvok reports, "Voyager and the Terrasphere have sustained moderate damage. But, they are continuing their assault." From Tactical, B'Elanna mutters lowly to herself, "come on, Chakotay. Slight chuckle. Got a lock: Two of the Cube's shield grids are…fluctuating." Captain Janeway checks, "B'Elanna?" B'Elanna corrects herself, "make that one. Ventral axis, secondary emitter." Kellin adds, "cutting primary power. Thrusters only. Polarization cloaking field...online."

The Ramuran vessel's cloak cloaks over the Delta Flyer: Transferred to the Delta Flyer's systems for this mission, but enhanced with a few bio-dampeners to keep it unknown to the Borg. It dives into the Borg Tactical Cube's opening in its secondary emitter, virtually undetected. B'Elanna realizes, "it's time." Captain Janeway says, "just remember: Once you reactivate your pheromones, no one in this Cube will remember you. Even us." Kellin nervously adds, "I understand."

On the Delta Flyer, Captian Janeway gulps nervously herself. She voices, "good luck, Kellin. Energize." She, Tuvok, and B'Elanna beam elsewhere in the Borg Cube. Kellin continues piloting the Delta Flyer.

On Voyager, Xana reports, "they've just beamed inside. The Borg are just detecting them now." At Seven's usual station, the EMH Doctor reports, "but, not the Delta Flyer…or Kellin." With most of the Borg Tactical Cube's cutting beams cutting into the same spot, the Terrasphere's shielding goes down fast and hard. Voyager gets critically hit by a Borg missile. Xana reports, "port nacelle is offline!" Gryzil turns to Chakotay, "now?!" Tom Paris adds, "now. Take us out of here." Chakotay slightly nods. Voyager and the Terrasphere go to warp, backing off from the Borg.

The Delta Flyer docks into a Borg Hangar Bay. In recent years, the Borg have been using them for assimilating probes and shuttles within range more "efficiently". The sight of the being dissected shuttles and probes reeks of cutting beam slices: The parts being assembled into Borg components by half burned assimilated pilots. Kellin moderately sighs to herself, struggling to get a grip on her nausea and disgust. She mutters, "great. Just…great."

From Chakotay's Quarters…

I thought I understood enough. Moderate sigh. I've been on plenty of covert missions…with Beta Squad. Seven even personally recommended me for this mission. At first, it felt no different: Even with B'Elanna and Tuvok coming on the same mission. Because, Beta Squad sometimes had to change tactics at the last minute. I told myself then…why would this be any different? But… Moderate sigh. But, never have I reactivated my pheromones on a mission.

Slight chuckle. Sure: I was well aware of the neural suppressant involved. A temporary dose of my pheromones, replicated through Species 8473's biological science. As soon as Captain Janeway's team would be assimilated, a few Borg nanoprobes would activate them: And, the Borg Collective wouldn't be the wiser. Sure: As a Tracer… I probably did it plenty more times than I'd care to admit. Sure: Going after Reskit, I was off on my own for a year. But… Sniffle. That's exactly why it felt darker.

Even then, I could fly in a vessel: Stopping to pick up supplies unnoticed, sending communiqués back to my friends on Ramura. But by the time I was on route back home…the communiqués dwindled to one. My best friend, Adolnan. Slight chuckle. Guess I always had more men to call as friends. He had short red hair, and a matching earring. Adolnan was…interesting. He was curious, about everything. Fearlessly so. Slight chuckle. Got into a whole lot of scrapes too. I was the one he'd call to get out of them. He was the one I would theorize with, about the stars and everything else: When we were kids. The only one…that was very much like a brother to me.

And when I docked in Ramura, there was no home for me: Only dust. I could only assume the worst: Adolnan, on a most wanted poster by the Ramuran government. Whether he actually left Ramura or not…I can't say. All that mattered was the realization that hit me: That the Ramuran government was responsible… Sniffle. And, that that was far from the only time that they violated others! I was a idiot for letting them get to me. For letting them turn me into a Tracer. I couldn't take it anymore: Moderate sigh. I knew I didn't belong. Sniffle. I knew I was alone…and that the closest thing I could have to a family again was Chakotay on Voyager. Slight chuckle. Aside from the obvious part.

For that day…on that Borg Cube… Moderate sigh. I was alone. I've never been much afraid of the dark…as a kid. But, as the hours went by… I started feeling afraid. Sniffle. Like there was not much else in the galaxy left...that hasn't been assimilated by the Borg. Contact with Voyager was out of the question. The Borg Collective would detect it and the mission would fail: They'd adapt. Contact with the rest of the away team was out of the question: They wouldn't remember me, and the Borg Collective would detect us both anyway. They'd adapt.

And, I didn't want to sleep: Knowing the Borg could very well stumble into the Delta Flyer any minute, and discover the shuttle. It doesn't take much else to figure out… Moderate sigh. That I was in every way possible living a nightmare.

In Kellin's eyes…

In the Borg Queen's chamber, the Borg Queen slightly sighs. She mutters, "it is quiet. Too quiet. We should have detected more with the disease by now. Why can't I hear their thoughts? Slight sigh. What is relevant is what I should be hearing. Their link is still online, but they are no longer on the frequency. Janeway is up to something. Why can't I hear her thoughts?! Our concerns for identifying her designation is irrelevant. I maintain the knowledge of her facial recognition pattern. We must find out what she is up to. Comply. Good. Search the Cube: Find her. Assimilate the information we require."

The Borg drones with her slightly nod. In her personal cloak, Kellin has beamed into the chamber. Where there are Borg drones, she sees Ramuran faces: Curneth's, Adolnan's…and the face of a long very curly brown haired woman that was her mother. Kellin readies her phaser, about to shoot the Borg Queen. But, hearing her plans… Kellin lowers the phaser. She goes over to a unattended Borg alcove. Kellin starts pressing the very sensitive Borg light buttons: On a Borg panel. She thinks to herself, "we're all that's left in the galaxy: We can't fail. I won't fail you!" A teary eyed Kellin takes a deep breath, struggling to concentrate.

Several minutes later, the physically assimilated Captain Janeway, B'Elanna, Tuvok are on their way into the Central Plexus. In Tuvok's head, the Borg Queen's voice starts echoing, "Tuvok? Where are you, Tuvok?" In high Borg tone, Captain Janeway checks in concern, "Commander?" In high Borg tone, Tuvok is recalling, "Stardate 38774…Vulcanis lunar colony. The time and place of my birth. Recalling the details of my life helps me remain focused. Captain, if I succumb to the Collective…I'll pose a security risk. You must be prepared to deactivate me." Captain Janeway insists, "without the Doctor's help, that could kill you! Stay focused…stay Tuvok. That's an order." Footsteps of the Borg start coming. Then, they stop. Captain Janeway figures, "I'm going to check this out."

In high Borg tone, B'Elanna turns to her, "are you crazy?! I just bypassed the access codes: You got to come in with us, before the Borg…" Captain Janeway insists, "I'm right behind you, B'Elanna. Go!" B'Elanna sighs, "all right. But, you better be." She and Tuvok head into the Central Plexus. Captain Janeway turns the corner, to find several overloaded Borg panels. And lying there are several electrocuted Borg drones, deactivated.

Captain Janeway slightly chuckles to herself, "false alarm." She turns back for the Central Plexus: When the Borg Queen herself beams in. The Borg Queen mutters coldly to herself, "the Central Plexus." She detected the overloaded Borg panels…leading her right to Captain Janeway. The Borg Queen follows her into the Central Plexus, careful not to be heard.

Not long after, Captain Janeway and B'Elanna face a Central Plexus grid screen: Made up of green dots. B'Elanna has already started the download of Axum's nanovirus: Tied into the holographic backups of Unimatrix Zero, through the inner workings of a probe. But, from a opposite grid screen…Captain Janeway is about to download the probe components. She reports, "downloading the…"

In Tuvok's head, Tuvok and the Borg Queen's voices start overlapping. Tuvok recalls, "my daughter's name is Asil. She was born in the city of…" The Borg Queen echoes through him, "T'Paal. We share your memories. You are part of us now. Don't resist." B'Elanna and Captain Janeway start getting suspicious. But, the Borg Queen punches Captain Janeway down. Captain Janeway coughs violently on the floor, but tumbles back to her feet. She shouts, "Tuvok?!" In the chaos, Tuvok has already knocked out B'Elanna. No answer comes.

Captain Janeway is pinned against the wall by the Borg Queen. But, with a little arm room…she breaks out of it. Captain Janeway swings the Borg Queen violently down to the floor: Not fully realizing her Borg strength. The Borg Queen's back is very bruised, but she starts getting back to her feet. Interestingly though, a Borg drone beams in: Pinning the Borg Queen to the floor. It has the spirit of a Unimatrix Zero civilian. But, Tuvok tosses Captain Janeway into the Borg drone: Stunning them long enough for the Borg Queen to have the upper hand. The Borg Queen slightly laughs, "thank you…Tuvok."

Meanwhile, Voyager and the Species 8473 Terrasphere is back around: Hoping to beam the away team back up. The access codes had been changed since the away team went into the Borg Cube: That is, for Voyager. Photonic missiles hit both ships hard: From the open Borg hangar Bay. Chakotay starts ordering, "shields to…" The Terrasphere and Voyager's shields go down: Leaving them vulnerable to Borg cutting beam relays. Xana reports, "we just lost shields! I… Moderate sigh. Well, I'll be screwed."

They shake violently, as Borg cutting beams cut deadly close to the ships's power cores. Tom Paris sighs, "that can't be good." Xana adds, "not in the slightest. The Borg have accessed the Delta Flyer. Hull breaches on Decks 9, 10... Emergency force fields failing!" Harry Kim reports over communications, "Species 8473 can't last much longer like this. We got to break orbit now!" Chakotay sighs heavily, "reverse course, Gryzil. Mariah…target the hanger bay." Gryzil slightly sighs, "yeah." Mariah uneasily adds, "locked." Voyager and the Terrasphere are in retreat. Tom Paris starts to object, "but we can't just…!"

Chakotay points out, "I don't like it either, Commander. But, the Borg could assimilate us any minute. That is, if the warp core doesn't get us first." On Voyager's way out, it fires phasers into the open Borg hangar bay: Where the Delta Flyer has turned about in mid-air, ready with another spread of photonic missiles. The Borg hangar bay explodes, taking down the Delta Flyer with it.

But fortunately, during all of this… Kellin picked up the probe component download from the floor, and downloaded it. She reveals herself to them, chuckling, "you may capture me, Borg. But, you're too late…! Now. Slight nervous chuckle." Kellin suddenly realizes that Captain Janeway and B'Elanna are knocked out: Just before the Borg Queen coldly knocks Kellin out from behind.

From Chakotay's Quarters…

Slight nervous chuckle. In my somewhat delusional state, that was quite the idiotic moment. I really thought we had won: No matter how much information the Borg assimilated. After all, we never thought to make a counteragent for the virus. So, how could the Borg possibly isolate it…before it spread to every Borg in the Borg Collective? Before they could join the Borg revolution? Moderate sigh. Well, it turned out they didn't have to: Sniffle. To have their way.

In Kellin's eyes…

Captain Janeway appears before the Borg Queen, through a Borg alcove: Adapted to form a holographic representation of Captain Janeway. The Borg Queen reveals, "I altered the transmission to restore your original appearance. I know how vain humans can be." A assimilated Kellin is in the corner, at a Borg panel. Captain Janeway coldly asks, "why am I here?" The Borg Queen slightly smiles creepily, "see for yourself." Her Borg viewscreen shows Unimatrix Zero…being populated with a growing number of Borg drones: Including the child from earlier. In Unimatrix Zero, they're setting up a hybrid network of Ramuran neurolytic emitters and holographic emitters.

Teary eyed, Captain Janeway voices shakily, "you're planning to brainwash them back into the Borg Collective." The Borg Queen mutters, "you thought that I would simply ignore Unimatrix Zero...without the "diseased" drones? You underestimated us, Captain. Now, within minutes…it can cause a great deal of suffering. But, it does not have to be that way." Captain Janeway says, "go on." The Borg Queen suggests, "I want you to go on a diplomatic mission. I understand it is one of your primary functions?" Captain Janeway mutters, "yes. But, something tells me it won't be much of a choice."

The Borg Queen slightly sighs, "to you, perhaps. But, they're individuals. Can you really speak for all of them? I do not think so. If they rejoin the Collective willingly, their Unimatrix Zero will be intact: As though all of this never happened. Isn't that all they really want? To have their "primitive paradise", regardless of the cost involved? Thousands have already suffered. Now, you can give them peace. Decide." Captain Janeway sadly comments, "damned if I do…damned if I don't." The Borg Queen urges creepily, "decide."

From Chakotay's Quarters…

Because of my delusion, my neural suppressant was breaking down. And…I ended up giving the Borg a way to win. I didn't think anyone would turn down the offer. After all, who wouldn't be tempted by a "primitive paradise"? And, what else did Unimatrix Zero know of freedom…besides Unimatrix Zero itself? Sniffle. Captain Janeway though had more faith in them. Looking back…she probably knew that some resistance to the Borg is better than none.

Moderate sigh. Even if twenty eight were the only ones left of the Borg revolution. As I understand it, it was no longer Unimatrix Zero that was their home: It was, for all intentions, Borg. Captain Janeway told the crew that "Unimatrix Zero has the right to choose." But…there was a second story behind it. Captain Janeway was not just referring to their original home: But, also to Voyager's holodecks. The only holographic backups not requested to be shut off…were of the twenty eight of the true Unimatrix Zero.

The Terrasphere was too heavily damaged to come rescue us. Voyager was barely together. But pretty soon, several Borg Cubes were taken over. Led by a General Korak, I think. Slight chuckle. He reminds me of Adolnan. The Borg may've won Unimatrix Zero…but the Borg revolution is far from over. And although they aren't in action... I have no doubt they will find a way to be again.

In Kellin's eyes…

Kellin is recovering in a dimly lit Sick Bay, when Seven pays her a visit. Seven wonders nervously, "how are you?" Teary eyed, Kellin moderately sighs, "other than losing myself to the Borg, I'm pretty fine. Really. What about you?" Teary eyed herself, Seven puts a sympathetic hand on hers. She moderately sighs, "let's assume I am not yet well enough to tell you. But, if it makes you feel any better…I never wanted you to do this mission alone. That was Tuvok's idea." Kellin slightly nods solemnly, "it does. Thank you." Seven adds solemnly, "you're welcome." And with that, she leaves Kellin.

From Chakotay's Quarters…

And although I hated Tuvok's decision, I… Moderate sigh. I can respect why he did it. Because, it was possibly the only way I could admit to myself… Sniffle. That being a Tracer is a part of who I am. Even if it's in a dark corner of my spirit, it's not something I can just ignore. Unimatrix Zero can't ignore that a part of them will be Borg...even though they're individuals. But, that's what our spiritual fights are: Slight chuckle. Keeping what we don't want to become in a dark corner of our spirits. And, I have no intention of letting that part of me come back again. End log.


	10. Over to S7:The Haunting of Deck Twelve

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

The Haunting of Deck Twelve:

On the USS Voyager, from Cargo Bay 2…

Including Icheb, the former Borg children under Seven's care are regenerating in their Borg alcoves: Having been onboard for quite some time. Over communications, Captain Janeway announces, "all hands: Hard sigh. Initiate shutdown sequence." She sounds a little shaken…but struggles to hide it. The lights go out.

Main power goes offline…for Cargo Bay 2 and beyond. A very confused Icheb wakes from his Borg alcove. In seconds, Mezoti, Azan, and Rebi wake up as well. Emergency power goes online: But, at a minimum. The darkness remains, but the Borg alcoves's systems go online. Trying to hide unease from the others, Icheb figures, "I…don't understand." Curiously, Mezoti inquires, "don't understand what, Icheb?" Icheb reasons, "under Seven's transport recall functions, we should have been beamed to a safer section of the ship...by now."

Then, in the darkness…they see a silvery lantern resembling Voyager's warp core: Glowing in a familiar bluish green. And holding it in a light arm…is Kes: In a dark blue warp nacelle patterned dress. Warmly, she mostly assures, "don't be frightened. It'll be all right."

Kes sits down on one of the silvery storage containers. The former Borg children gather around on nearby storage containers, wanting to know more. Rebi doubts, "how do you know?" Kes moderately sighs, "we're not in danger: At least, not now. We've had to shut down main power. But, it's only temporary." Mezoti speculates, "then how come Seven isn't here to tell us herself?" Icheb whispers harshly, "Mezoti!" He moderately sighs, "Kes, I apologize for Mez…" Already sensing what he was about to say, Kes insists, "it's quite all right, Icheb. No harm done." In a know-it-all manner, Mezoti smirks to herself.

Kes goes on, "to answer your question… Seven is a little preoccupied right now. Most of us are. But, Seven said I can look after you. Until you can safely regenerate in your alcoves." A little uneasily, Azan wonders, "safely?" Rebi points out, "you said we're not in danger." Kes slightly sighs, "oh, yes. I'm sure of that." Icheb reasons out loud, "maybe if you explained what's happening in more detail, we would be more sure."

Kes slightly chuckles nervously, "sure. But before I start…there's something you must know." Mezoti guesses, "this has to do with deck twelve: Doesn't it?" Kes slightly chuckles, "yes. But, that wasn't what I about to tell you." Icheb urges, "go on." Kes says nervously, "thanks. This story…moderate sigh…was very scary for most of us. I'm not saying you can't handle it: Because I know better. It's just that most of us…don't want to talk about it. So, if I tell you…you have to promise me you won't talk to anyone else about it."

Mezoti checks uneasily, "even Naomi?" Azan points out, "she did tell her about deck twelve." Rebi adds in, "about it being haunted." Kes moderately sighs, "I'm afraid this story would scare Naomi too much." Mezoti reluctantly says, "all right. I promise." Icheb adds, "I think I speak for all of us here…when I say we all promise." A slightly smiling Kes concludes, "all right. It started in this timeline, three days ago. As you can probably recall, I've been visiting for several. We were exploring a Class J nebula, and gathering deuterium. I sensed something was wrong: Moderate sigh. I just couldn't figure out what it was."

In Kes's eyes…

In the Mess Hall, Kes is engaged in a game of Kal-Toh: Opposite Tuvok. Swirling around her vision are subatomic particles, in a multicolored sea of twisting gel. Star like subatomic particles orbit the playing rods: The formation shaped like half a sphere on its side. Kes places a playing rod to the side: The subatomic particles orbiting it resembling the coloration of the Ramuran ship. A little uncertain, Kes says, "it's your move." Tuvok checks, "are you all right?" The subatomic particles fade from Kes's vision. Kes slightly chuckles, "sorry. It's my subatomic particle calculations: They appear sometimes…when I don't want them to."

Beyond the Mess Hall windows, the Ramuran ship is hovering out there: In the Class J nebula. To the side of the Ramuran hull…is Xana with a environmental suit on. She's magnetized there, holding out Vyoir's special tricorder. With its buzzard collectors, Voyager is in the midst of collecting one hundred fifty light years worth of deuterium. Over communications, Captain Janeway checks, "status?" Xana slightly chuckles, "clear as day, Captain. No "alien invaders" in sight." Slightly amused, Captain Janeway adds, "good. But…keep a eye on that tricorder reading."

Back in the Mess Hall, Tuvok reasons awkwardly, "then perhaps we should call it a day." Kes tries to assure him, "no: It's all right. Moderate sigh. For now. When it isn't…I'll let you know. But, it only happens…when something bad is coming." Tuvok reasons, "nevertheless…you should inform the Captain." Kes slightly nods reluctantly, "good idea. Perhaps we can try again later?" She starts heading out of the Mess Hall. Tuvok figures, "as far as I'm concerned, you have well grasped the fundamentals of Kal-toh. I look forward to our next game." Kes slightly chuckles, "coming from you, that's a compliment."

From the Ramuran ship, Xana moderately sighs, "I'm afraid it isn't that simple, Captain." Captain Janeway checks uneasily, "why not?" Xana points out, "the tricorder is already overheating. If I try to scan now…let's just say our "starry" tricorder is screwed."

On the Bridge, Harry Kim reasons, "could be the heat of the nebula." Chakotay points out, "we've got eighty percent of the deuterium we wanted. Maybe we shouldn't push our luck." Slightly disappointed, Captain Janeway says, "agreed. It's time to call it a day, Xana. Tell Beta Squad to prepare to return to Voyager." Over communications, Xana says, "sounds good."

Over communications, Captain Janeway adds, "Bridge to Engineering." From Main Engineering, B'Elanna says, "go ahead." Captain Janeway reports, "Beta Squad's tricorder is overheating. We're suspending the deuterium intake." B'Elanna adds, "understood." Voyager's deuterium intake gets less and less strong, until there no longer is one.

Voyager sits there in the Class J nebula, while the Ramuran ship is coming in to dock. Xana has come into the Ramuran ship's airlock, having recently taken off her environmental suit. She's fairly sweaty from being out there in the nebula. But, what she doesn't notice…is Vyoir's special tricorder still overheating: Under her belt, without so much as a flame.

From Cargo Bay 2…

A little skeptical, Icheb inquires, "wait: If it was overheating…how could it not emit fire?" Casually, Kes figures, "when I phase through things, you could ask me the same thing." Trying to hide some embarrassment, Icheb reasons, "I suppose you're right." Unfazed, Kes just smiles assuredly.

Mezoti guesses, "you mean…a non-corporeal lifeform?" Kes moderately sighs, "not quite." Azan shrugs, "a ghost?" Rebi whispers lowly, "quiet, Azan! Let her tell us." Kes nervously adds, "well… I suppose it was a "stowaway"." Icheb reasons, "no doubt it was a space-dwelling lifeform." Amazed by the suddenness of his reasoning, Kes adds, "no doubt." She continues, "but, in order to fully understand what it was…there's still a lot to tell. Before I continue…I just have to ask. Anyone hungry? I know we don't have any snacks as of this moment…but I could of course go back through this timeline and grab some."

Azan figures, "I think we're efficiently awake enough, thanks." Rebi adds, "what he said." Mezoti slightly sighs, "snacks are irrelevant. Continue the story." Icheb figures, "yes: Continue the story." Kes slightly sighs, "sure. Where was I? Oh…right. For the most part, every thing was fine. But as the hours went by…and we left the nebula… Moderate sigh. That's when it started to get…scary. Yes: That was my reason for asking."

In Kes's eyes…

Kes is lying down on the Ready Room couch, facing a concerned Captain Janeway. Around Kes's vision, subatomic particle sparks go off from every inch of the ship. It felt close to going blind…with Kes struggling to divert her eyes towards herself. Captain Janeway checks, "should I get the Doctor?" With a heavy sigh, Kes insists, "no: I'm sure it'll pass. But, thank you." The subatomic particles fade from Kes's vision. Captain Janeway figures warily, "the least I can do for a good friend. But, if you're sure...you're sure." Kes concludes nervously, "actually… There's something I'm not very sure about."

From across Voyager's corridors, the lights are flickering: Some lighting over random sections going out. In the same sections, access panels are overheating in a creepy bluish glow: But, without any kind of flame.

Repair teams are already on their way. Transporters and turbolifts are somehow avoiding the same sections. But…they otherwise work fine. Chakotay suddenly realizes in puzzlement, "this isn't the right section." He's just coming out of a turbolift. Over combadge, Chakotay checks, "B'Elanna. Do you have any idea what's going on?" He's already heading for Main Engineering.

Captain Janeway realizes shakily, "power fluctuations have been cropping up all over. Some worse than others. Hard sigh. You mean this is connected to this…"something" you reported earlier?" Sitting upright, Kes slightly nods, "I'm sensing something…all around us. But, I just can't place it. Almost as if the entire ship...is alive." Captain Janeway says worriedly, "Kes? How the hell…?!"

From Main Engineering, B'Elanna reports frustratedly, "well… Hard sigh! I've traced the problem to three gel packs on deck twelve. But…!" Vyoir's special tricorder sits on one of the side consoles…but is no longer overheated. The creepy bluish glow is showering Main Engineering. In the flash of the near blinding glow…everyone screams.

Kes sighs heavily, "B'Elanna…the others in Main Engineering…the repair teams… I can't sense any of them." Captain Janeway goes wide eyed. She mutters determinedly, "bullshit." Over combadge, she orders, "Harry, Tuvok, Seven…get transporter locks on every fluctuating life sign on the ship!" A shaken Seven reports, "we're too late: Moderate sigh. They're…no longer on sensors."

Chakotay checks, "B'Elanna? B'Elanna!" But…all he hears are scrambled recordings of the crew:

Status? Status…no in sight. An eye on you. Try to scan…us… You…be…the problem. We…clear…o…u…t…problem.

Chakotay hurries towards the main Main Engineering doors. He calls out, "B'Elanna!" Chakotay struggles to get the doors open…but they're magnetically sealed shut. He scans the doors…but prepares to run. Chakotay is reporting over combadge, "Chakotay to Bridge: We…!" Coming straight off the doors is a surfacing creepy bluish glow: In the form of a bio-neural gel fused electromagnetic tentacle lashing out at him.

Chakotay runs for it…but he doesn't get very far. From a not far off dark section of corridor…a second electromagnetic tentacle strikes. Some drops of dark red liquid go off….as Chakotay screams.

From Cargo Bay 2…

A little uneasy, Rebi inquires, "what happened to them?" Mezoti speculates, "the lifeform must have been a early Kobali experiment gone insane: Looking for a electromagnetic device like Voyager's warp core to mate with." Icheb slightly chuckles, "your theory lacks much plausibility. The Kobali turn to DNA alterations to add to their population: Not electromagnetic lifeforms." Mezoti shrugs, "you don't know how many years the Kobali existed: Before or after introducing DNA alterations."

Icheb mutters lowly, "well, neither do you."

Kes moderately sighs, "Icheb. Please." Uneasily, Icheb fully catches up with his own logic, "sorry." Kes slightly nods, "it's ok." She turns to Mezoti, "it certainly is quite a theory. But…I also think you are letting your imagination get the best of your mind. Because, it was just a electromagnetic lifeform: A very primal one, but… Deep sigh. A electromagnetic lifeform nevertheless."

In Kes's eyes…

Captain Janeway and Kes are walking onto the Bridge. A angry looking Seven is being held at phaser point by Tuvok. And, Tom Paris has gotten up from the Helm: With a phaser aimed at Tuvok. Harry Kim is aiming a phaser at Tom Paris, hesitantly so. Tuvok slightly sighs, "Captain, I regret to inform you..." In the heat of the moment, Captain Janeway shouts, "Seven, just what the hell is going on?!"

Kes, through her vision, already sees all too well what Seven is about to do and why. Subatomic particles form the figure of Seven, punching down the subatomic particles made figure of Tuvok. From the corner of Kes's eye, subatomic particles form in the form of Borg assimilation tubules: Targeting for main sensors. But, they're melting before a familiar creepy bluish glow. Kes outright voices, "I know. A lifeform contacted the Bridge. That much, we can agree on?"

All four Senior officers uneasily confirm this. It was through another scrambled voice of voices:

Status…Chakotay…B'Elanna…every…life sign…no longer…in sight. An eye on…they. An eye on you. Been…overheating. Already got eighty percent…life signs…wanted. Not press…m…y…luck? Try to scan…m…e… Try to…locks…on…m…e… You…be…problem…s. Me…clear…out…problem…s. Clear…out…Voyager...every fluctuating life sign…in twelve…m…i…n…u…t…e…s. Or…every fluctuating life sign…on…m…y…heat intake.

Silently, Captain Janeway is grimly piecing it together herself: Trying to figure out if there even is a way to fight back this lifeform.

Kes urges, "Seven, however noble your intentions are… Deep sigh. I'm afraid shutting down main sensors won't save our missing crewmen." Teary eyed, Seven reflects, "well…I'm sorry we don't agree. Sniffle. For too many encounters, this ship's systems have been infiltrated by a advanced physical state of lifeform… And, I'm not about to let our collective surrender to one!" She punches down Tuvok, as Kes predicted. Tuvok has the wind knocked out of him, struggling to breathe on his bruised side. His phaser is on the floor. Kes swiftly has a bluish green portal appear: Under Seven's feet. Phaser fire from Harry Kim misses by inches…along with a gel fused electromagnetic tentacle.

It spins about…striking into Kes: Who was too focused on getting Seven out of range to notice. Kes phases through most of the attack…but the electromagnetic energy is already coursing through her shocked body. Seven has just appeared back at her station, too stunned for words. Kes falls to the floor. Tom Paris gasps, "shit!" Captain Janeway and Harry Kim cry out, "no!" They fire phasers at the tentacle. Seven and Tom Paris fire as well: But to little to no effect.

And chillingly, the scrambled voice echoes throughout Voyager:

Every…life sign…on…my…n…e…u…r…a…l…heat intake.

In those seconds…the lights go out: All across Voyager. In the darkness…flashes of gel fused EM tentacles strike Tuvok. Screams echo all over the ship…as the gel fused EM tentacles strike, from conduit to conduit.

Seven tries to tackle one to assimilate…with her Borg assimilation tubules… But, it violently shakes her off.

And in the darkness that has already befallen Main Engineering…are wire strands of gel fused EM tentacles: Sickeningly close to the comatose heads of B'Elanna and her fellow engineers…rimmed with dark red liquid.

From Cargo Bay 2…

In a solemn manner, Icheb slightly sighs, "Seven shouldn't have allowed herself to be afraid." Kes challenges, "is that so?" From Icheb's example, Azan concludes, "fear distracts people from efficiency." Kes moderately sighs, "not always. But…I suppose that was a bad example." Mezoti urges, "explain." Kes reasons, "for good or bad…fear can heighten your senses. And, protect you from danger: Potentially, of course. I was a little frightened myself. But…I held on to hope: Hope that we'd get through this, as we have so many times."

Mezoti reflects a little uneasily, "I was afraid once." Rebi mutters lowly, "you've been afraid many times." Icheb whispers harshly, "Rebi!" Rebi adds, "moderate sigh. What?! Is my logic wrong?" Kes slightly chuckles, "potentially." She turns to Mezoti, "would you like to tell us about it?" Uneasily, Mezoti voices, "it was when we were first disconnected from the hive mind… Moderate sigh. Before Seven rescued us. I couldn't hear anyone else's thoughts anymore. I felt alone." Kes solemnly nods to her, "I know what that's like: Being alone. When I left my people...it wasn't easy. And…moderate sigh…coming back with Neelix didn't feel all that better either. But, it helps to have a friend…doesn't it?" Looking around at everyone, Mezoti slightly smiles, "yeah. It does."

Kes continues, "of course, in this case…I wasn't alone. There was the Doctor, the Captain…and Samantha Wildman."

In Kes's eyes…

In a Jefferies tube, Captain Janeway and Samantha Wildman climb into a Jefferies tube junction: With only the light from the access panels to guide them…and crouch away from. With heavy breathing, Captain Janeway gets to her feet. In a whisper of a voice, she checks, "you still with me, Samantha?" Between heavy breaths, Samantha Wildman slightly nods shakily, "a little…out of…shape. But…yes…Captain." Captain Janeway closes the automatic door. She says, "good. But…don't strain your throat. And, take deep breaths." Samantha Wildman nervously nods, struggling to remain calm. She's slowly breathing in and out.

Then, on a access panel between them…Kes herself appears: As a something of a hologram, with the Ocampan homeworld from years ago as a holographic setting. In a nervous whisper, she checks, "Captain? Seven? Can anyone he…?" Captain Janeway slightly chuckles, "yes: Samantha also can. It's good to hear you, Kes." Kes smiles back, "same here. For a while, I thought it was only me and the Doctor." Fairly hopeful, Captain Janeway adds, "apparently not. Sniffle. But, is there any reason why you can't give us back Voyager…not to mention our crew?!"

Kes sighs deeply, "I'm afraid it's not that simple, Captain. The lifeform is feeding on neural energy produced from our brains: Including my own. I can project myself from panel to panel…but not much else without detection from the lifeform."

Catching her breath, Samantha Wildman sighs heavily, "we…gathered that: About the lifeform. Is there any reasoning with it?" Captain Janeway scoffs, "it's a lifeform hunting us down one by one: What the hell is there left to reason with?!" Kes figures, "with all due respect, Captain…I think Samantha might be on to something." Reluctantly, Captain Janeway moderately sighs, "then please…enlighten me."

Kes highlights, "before everything went to hell…the lifeform said it already had "eighty percent" of what it wanted. And, that it was overheating. It may be hunting us down…but all it really wants is enough energy to sustain itself. Ever since it left the Class J nebula." Samantha Wildman sighs heavily, "I'm…not sure I understand. Why would it leave the nebula? I mean, didn't it already have plenty of energy for it to feed on?"

Kes concludes, "I know why. And Captain…you're not going to like it: Not one bit. The neural energy in Beta Squad's tricorder. It was almost like…a drug to the lifeform. Attracting it to us. And when the lifeform realized it wasn't as good as the electromagnetic energy in the nebula…it was going through withdrawal. Pretty soon, the bio-neural gel packs became the closest thing to home. But…it still needed a more "natural" energy source: To compensate for itself." Captain Janeway sighs into her hands, "that's a shitty understatement. So…where does that leave us?" Kes figures, "the Doctor is working on a medical solution. But without Sick Bay to work in…it could take days. I thought you might have a better plan."

Captain Janeway looks saddened, "this is over my head, Kes. What else could we possibly give it…that it hasn't already taken from us?" Samantha Wildman suggests nervously, "Fluidic Space, maybe?" Captain Janeway looks surprised…but in tremendous relief. Kes considers, "go on." Samantha Wildman goes on, "I mean…Species 8472 were supposedly "biological perfection". Right? Well, the particles in Fluidic Space… Moderate sigh. I know it's not exactly the best idea. But, if they were enough for Species 8472…who's to say it wouldn't be more than enough energy for anything biologically less advanced than them?"

Captain Janeway voices, "I did ask. But… Slight chuckle. It's the best plan I heard all day." Samantha Wildman voices, "thanks…I think." Kes is looking more cheerful, "I'll see what I can do. Wait a minute." She disappears from the panel. Seconds later, the lights come back on.

The power fluctuations fade off. And, in a bluish green telepathic glow…the strands of gel fused EM tentacles time reverse back into the ship. But, they aren't coming back out. Kes appears before Captain Janeway and Samantha Wildman. Samantha Wildman comments, "not bad." Awkward sounding, Captain Janeway comments in great disbelief, "so…now it's over? Just like that?!" Kes slightly chuckles back, "looks like. You're welcome."

In Main Engineering, the EMH Doctor comes out of hiding from a nearby Jefferies tube to treat everyone: Only to find there to be no dark red liquid or internal injuries. B'Elanna, Chakotay, Vorik…they're all in good health: Except for a lot of throbbing headaches.

B'Elanna turns to the EMH Doctor, "what the hell am I…?! Ahh!" B'Elanna gets up, still a little shaken. The EMH Doctor scans her with his tricorder. He concludes, "it's only a headache, Lieutenant. Should be gone in the morning. As for why it's there… Heavy sigh. Let's just say that's a very anger inducing story." B'Elanna remarks, "oh, I don't know: Slight chuckle. Maybe I ought to induce it on someone."

In Cargo Bay 2…

Rebi comments, "so, even after what the monster did…to all of you… You came to negotiations with it?" Icheb realizes, "haven't you been listening? It wasn't a monster: It was a instinctive lifeform…but it didn't possess the information to know any better." Kes slightly smiles, "yes: I think you understand perfectly. Slight sigh. Looks like main power is back online. You can go back to regenerating now." Mezoti, Azan, and Rebi look sleepy: Like they're about to yawn, but suppress it as though they're internal chronometers. They start walking back sleepily to their alcoves.

A little uncertain, Mezoti pauses, "Kes…you sure that was what really happened? Not even a little exaggeration?" Kes mostly assures her, "I find it kind of hard to believe as well. But, yes: I'm sure." She says good night to Mezoti, Azan, and Rebi. A bit sleepy himself, Icheb says, "that was quite a story, Kes." Kes slightly chuckles, "you're welcome. Good night, Icheb." Icheb adds, "good night." He walks back to his alcove. With all of the former Borg children back in their regeneration cycles…Kes turns to the sensors: Aside Seven's empty Borg alcove.

She catches sensor readings of the electromagnetic lifeform: Floating among the Fluidic Space gases. The bio-neural gel readings around it are non-existent now. And through a slowly opening portal, Kes can see it: Like she was floating alongside it. Over communications, a much calmer sounding Seven checks in, "Kes…how are the children's well being?" Kes mostly assures, "safe and sound like the rest of us, Seven: Safe and sound."


	11. Season 7: Repression

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

Repression:

On the USS Voyager, from Tuvok's Quarters…

Tuvok is deep in T'San S'at meditation. He is alone, deep in his thoughts. He is reflecting:

Can I eat? Barely. Can I sleep? Heavy sigh. Deep breath. Less than barely. Am I…missing someone? Mezoti, Azan, and Rebi have rejoined their respective families. I do miss them, as though they were part of our crew. But, only to a moderate extent: Not to a high extent.

We've passed through many systems. Granted, I may miss some of their civilizations. I do not in any sense miss Mezoti's people: The Norcadians…moderate sigh…for blatantly obvious reasons. Mezoti has the same sentiment: She would not go back to them, nor would we recommend it. I only miss Vulcan and Earth to a high extent: There have been no other worlds that have grasped my logic to a high extent. The Mari's society appeared to be a exception: At first. But, with a moderate extent of regret… Moderate sigh. I conclusively found their society to be slightly disreputable.

Am I missing a object of importance? No. Has one of my closest colleagues been missing a object of importance? Slight sigh. In relation to this vessel and this crew, Captain Janeway was missing several: Replicator rations and medical supplies were low. That has been often the case for this crew. But, not to such a high extent: As it was several weeks ago. We are all grateful to Azan and Rebi's respective people the Wysanti for providing us with more supplies: Including a surplus of replicator rations.

Kellin…with the rest of Beta Squad…has been missing the polarization cloak for her vessel. On a large number of occasions, it has been instrumental for Beta Squad's missions: Moderate sigh. My own lingering issues with the Prime Directive notwithstanding. While on the Wysanti's homeworld, we were able to trade a portion of our replicator rations in exchange for hull plating components. Those components became key components for a new polarization cloak: For Kellin's vessel.

Am I overwhelmingly regretful for one of my more emotional colleagues? Heavy sigh. Not exactly. Then, what is the emotional complex I am caught in?! One where I am…overwhelmingly regretful for what I've done: Sob. What I had no control over. And, not for one of my more emotional colleagues. Moderate sigh! Deep breath. Deep breath.

I believe to be experiencing the Ashv'cezh: Revenge worse than death. The physical events of the Ashv'cezh have passed. My illogical actions were understandable to my fellow colleagues. Yet… Deep breath. I cannot deny that the Ashv'cezh remains strong within me! Sob. Deep breath! Deep breath.

In Tuvok's eyes…

In Sick Bay, Tuvok finds Tabor on a medical bed. The EMH Doctor reports, "I've found several micro-fractures in his cranium. They're minor…but the pattern suggests he suffered a trauma of some sort." Captain Janeway checks uneasily, "well, can't you at least identify the cause?" Tabor's brainwave scan is shown on a side monitor…its peaks mysteriously slanted to the right. The EMH Doctor sighs heavily, "his brainwave patterns appear to be slightly off. But…that could be caused by any number of things: Both physically and mentally. We may not even know how severe the trauma is…unless we have a point of reference to go on."

Trying not to sound a bit unnerved, Tuvok identifies, "there is evidence of sub-dermal contusions along his hairline. But… Slight sigh. I cannot identify the technique. It has traces of Cardassian DNA. But to my knowledge…there is no one onboard that is Cardassian. At least, not at this present time." Fairly shaken, Chakotay realizes, "he was attacked."

Captain Janeway looks down, teary eyed, "I really thought we were past all of this. But…it's possible that whoever did this is among us. Go to yellow alert. And, have Harry and Seven keep transporter locks on every Maquis member onboard. I don't want any more comas on this ship." Solemnly, Chakotay turns to her, "understood. Keep me informed?" Captain Janeway mostly assures, "you'll be the first." Chakotay slightly nods grimly. Then, he heads for the Bridge.

Twenty seven minutes later… Tuvok is addressing Captain Janeway, "moderate sigh. I regret to inform you that your assumption is very likely correct: That a member of this crew is indeed responsible." Captain Janeway looks fearful, "you sound awfully convinced. I've known you for years, Tuvok. But, you never sounded this certain before. There's something more to this than just a logical conclusion…isn't there?"

Tuvok moderately sighs, "I realize that my assumption may be viewed as…premature: Without conclusive evidence. But, I have a strong instinct about this. You might call it a hunch." Awkward sounding, Captain Janeway slightly sighs, "I didn't think Vulcans followed hunches. You said so yourself." Tuvok reflects, "I still don't. Moderate sigh! I do not know then how I can explain it. But, I can't simply ignore it either. Someone on board is responsible…and I intend to find out who." And with that, Tuvok strangely storms out. Captain Janeway sighs hard to herself.

Over combadge, she informs, "Seven." From Cargo Bay 2, a puzzled Seven responds, "go ahead." Captain Janeway tells her, "keep an eye on Tuvok. He may not want to admit it himself…but there may be something wrong with him." Seven questions this, "is there a reason why he shouldn't see the Doctor?" Warily, Captain Janeway says, "it may be nothing…and it may be something. Hard sigh. I can't say for sure. I just want you to keep an eye on him." A little shaken, Seven concludes, "understood."

From Tuvok's Quarters…

At the time…I was not even aware of it. Heavy sigh! Of losing control. I continued on with my investigation. I questioned crewman Jor, Lieutenant Torres, and Chakotay. However, with the traces of Cardassian DNA…Seska was the most likely suspect from the beginning. In retrospect, Seska could very well have faked her own death: If my Mirror Universe counterpart's "death" was any indicator. More specifically, five years ago…when we just retook Voyager from the Kazon.

Also, Seska has on a disturbing occasion come back to life: As a very self aware hologram…moderate sigh…in my security training program Insurrection Alpha. I would not doubt another such occasion to be possible. But… Sob. Deep breath! Deep breath. How could I possibly be prepared for a far more disturbing occasion…moderate sigh…prior to us being stranded in the Delta Quadrant? Infinite diversity in inf…! Moderate sigh! Infinite…deep breath…diversity…deep breath…in infinite combinations.

I also considered crewman Jor as a possible suspect: Given her close friendship to Tabor, and given that Seska has impersonated a Maquis before.

My second most likely suspect was Teero Anaydis: A very religious Bajoran…and a member of the Maquis. Prior to our being stranded in the Delta Quadrant, he was a close friend of Chakotay's…and of Seska's. Sob. Deep breath! Deep breath. Deep breath. When we began exchanging data streams with Starfleet…Chakotay remained close friends with him. Moderate sigh! But…the possibility could not be discounted: Was he attempting to bring back the Maquis, using his friendship with Chakotay to take advantage of his emotions?

But, as my investigation continued…

In Tuvok's eyes…

In the dimly lit Mess Hall, Seven sees the knocked out human body of crewman Jor: The black hair coming down to her neck pulled back. A shadow looms over Jor. Jor's side has a big cut across it. To the side of the shadow, a ceremonial Bat'leth lies menacingly on the floor. Seven ducks under the Mess Hall counter. She gets a fairly closer look. She can't help but gasp: For it was Tuvok's shadow, with his hands placed along Jor's hairline. His hands though…have somehow become genetically hardened: Resembling Cardassian skin. In Seska's voice, Tuvok is creepily whispering, "open your mind to the mission. My mind to your..."

He then hears Seven's gasp. Tuvok looks up: Uncharacteristically coldly so. Seven takes a deep breath, ducking her head down. Seska-Tuvok gets up, picking up the Bat'leth: Some drips of dark red liquid coming off of it. No sensors online. No footsteps. In cruelty, Seska-Tuvok slightly laughs, "I suppose your mind isn't as open. Let me help with that."

Seska-Tuvok charges into the back of the Mess Hall. But at the last minute, Seven upward kicks Seska-Tuvok: From the floor. The Bat'leth goes flying. Seven gets up to her feet…while a stunned Seska-Tuvok crashes into some pots and pans. Seven remarks, "I believe you're the one who needs medical assistance…Seska." Seven is about to press her combadge. But in her pride, Seska-Tuvok grabs a fallen pan.

She gets to her feet: Swinging it violently into Seven's arm, as it reaches for the combadge. Seven groans violently, kneeling over in throbbing pain. And in that second, Seska-Tuvok slams the pan down on her head. Seven falls to the floor: Her body stunned and shocked, from the neural trauma coursing through it. Seska-Tuvok mutters, "for a Borg drone…you talk too much." She hurls the pan over the Mess Hall counter, clinking hard on the cold floor.

From Tuvok's Quarters…

Heavy sigh. Seven, crewman Jor, Mister Kim, Lieutenant Torres, and Chakotay fell victim to attacks: One by one! Deep breath. Deep breath. Over a twenty one hour time period. Yet perplexingly…Tabor fully regained consciousness on his own. And to a largely shared sense of relief among the crew…including my own… Moderate sigh. So were the other victims. Still… Heavy sigh! Deep breath. There could only be one possible explanation. In that exact same time period, they were the crewmembers I was talking to the most often: Because of my investigation.

Xana's findings in the holodeck came with the final piece of evidence: A blurry image of my face… Moderate sigh! Sob. Deep breath! Deep breath. Deep breath. But, the image was undeniably my own. I couldn't understand why! I…just couldn't understand! Deep breath! Deep breath! Heavy sigh. But…I was logically the only one who could attack them. And in that precise moment…I arrested myself. In a matter of hours though… Moderate sigh! It all started to make a disturbing amount of sense.

In Tuvok's eyes…

In the Brig, a very shaken Tuvok looks at a PADD in hand: Recently handed to him. His hands have returned to normal…but not his sense of self. Out of uniform, Tuvok is sitting on his cell's bed: His dark purple undershirt disgustingly sweaty, from being up all night as Seska-Tuvok. He hasn't eaten or slept for hours…and he can't bear to eat much. The PADD shows the face of the frontless gray medium haired Bajoran Maquis Teero Anaydis. And seen next to his face…are bluish gray scripture strands. Tuvok mutters coldly, "it wasn't Teero. It looks…moderate sigh…Cardassian." Facing her old friend, Captain Janeway stands there: On the other side of the force field, hoping he'll make it through this.

She sighs hard, "on that…we agree. But Tuvok… Hard sigh. Seska's dead! Logically, who else could…?" Shakily, Tuvok reasons, "a…thought has occurred to me. In recent hours. Seska was a Cardassian agent: What if Seska's operation…didn't stop with Seska?" Captain Janeway looks like she's seeing a ghost. She realizes, "we…never did find out exactly what that operation entailed. Did we?" Tuvok sighs heavily, "I'm beginning to…wonder." He then sees Seska, laughing at him. Tuvok mutters, "Seska? Why…?!" Captain Janeway takes out her tricorder. She scans the Brig, "there is no Seska, Tuvok! Hard sigh. Not here."

Tuvok is breathing heavily into his hands, struggling to not hear Seska's laughter. He mutters, "you're not real." With some relief, Captain Janeway slightly nods, "right. What did she do to you, Tuvok?" Very nervously, he says, "I…I don't know." Captain Janeway figures conclusively, "maybe that's all the Obsidian Order wanted you to remember…seven years ago. What did they do?" Tuvok cries, "I…I'm sorry. I don't remember!" Captain Janeway urges gently, "try." Tuvok insists, "I can't! Why…sob…can't I?!" He hurls the PADD to the floor.

Captain Janeway starts to say, "Tuvok…hard sigh…I know this is hard for…" Tuvok then notices his hands, becoming hardened again. He shakily says, "Captain…what's happening?" Over combadge, a teary eyed Captain Janeway calls out, "Doctor!" Over communications, the EMH Doctor checks nervously, "Captain, what's…?" Captain Janeway answers, "I don't know. Sniffle. But, get down here immediately…please." Very nervously, The EMH Doctor says, "I'll be right there."

From Tuvok's Quarters…

I was treated for my…moderate sigh…genetic alteration: Which carried a biochemically formed Cardassian neural signal…completely experimental and unknown. Though remarkably, the Doctor knew how to suppress it. Given though how he was able to revive Chakotay from brain death…six years ago…it's not entirely implausible.

It was also just as remarkable how professional the Captain and the Doctor were being: Moderate sigh. Regardless of the highly sensitive nature of their relationship. After the treatment… The Captain helped me give my mind focus: Long enough to recall…how I was brainwashed. Heavy sigh! Sob. Deep breath. Deep breath.

In Tuvok's eyes…

In Tuvok's deep meditation, he's seeing darkness. Captain Janeway urges lowly, "where are you?" Tuvok is slowly recalling, "one day… Prior to being on the Liberty… I… Heavy sigh! I awoke… Sob. Deep breath. Deep breath. Restrained…in a dark room. At least…that is my assumption."

Tuvok finds himself starting to witness his resurfacing memory: In a very dark room. A big white light is high above his face. He can't see much else.

Captain Janeway checks, "is Seska there?" Tuvok heavily sighs to her, "two figures: One of which may be Seska." Captain Janeway lightly pushes, "describe what's happening." Tuvok reflects shakily, "my mind… Deep breath! My mind was spinning. In spite of my very frightening predicament, I tried to confront it with…sob…a sense of calm. Deep breath! Deep breath." In the memory, a Cardassian agent stood there: As the first figure, back to the light. He slightly laughs, "all yours, Seska. But, we need his mind to hold. Don't break him…too much." In front of the Cardassian agent…is the figure of Seska. Her face is blocked from view. Seska laughs cruelly, "still...it is tempting. Don't you agree?"

The Cardassian agent smirks back, "don't break him: Too much." He leaves Seska to Tuvok. Seska says, "now we're alone. Hard laugh! Oh, don't try to struggle: It's a futile attempt." Tuvok struggles to get up anyway…but nothing. Seska appears in the light…in her true Cardassian form: Just laughing. Captain Janeway checks, "Tuvok? Tuvok?! Stay with it, Tuvok." Tuvok sighs heavily, "I…am…sob…trying…deep breath…"

In the memory, a heavily breathing Tuvok mutters coldly, "what do you want?" Seska laughs disturbingly, "if I had my way…you'd be dead already. But the Order…thinks you're the perfect subject." Tuvok sighs heavily, "just tell me: What do they want?"

Seska moderately sighs, "the same way I'm going to use you: Only for the Maquis. Oh, yes: I know which side you're really on. But, don't worry just yet: I'm not planning to expose you. It'd be much more satisfying to let your own repression kill you: The violence of your darkest ancestors…and the anger that comes with it."

Very uncomfortably, Tuvok tries to reason, "but surely…you would…prefer me dead. Please…please don't do…!" Seska laughs. She presses into him a hypospray…with her own DNA. Seska goes on, "Pagh'tem'far, b'tanay. Your own "subcommand." And with the drugs in your system, you will obey my commands: Long after they wear off. If the Maquis are compromised, you will spread the word to every Maquis you can. Whenever you see my face, you will become hesitant: Slight laugh. Distracted at the worst possible moment. And, if you see my face enough times…your repression will come out. You will become…me."

From Tuvok's Quarters…

But… Moderate sigh! Sob. Deep breath! Deep breath! Deep breath. Deep breath. Seska saw right through it: Laughing at my fear.

The guilty party…was Sumaro Suros: A operative for the Obsidian Order. He was Seska's contact…and a experimental Cardassian scientist. This was no coincidence. But, why could I not remember?! It was… Heavy sigh! The Obsidian Order… Deep breath! Who chose me as the subject. The subject of… Sob. Deep breath! Deep breath! Deep breath.

Of a Obsidian Order mind control operation: Initiated by Sumaro, monitored by Seska. However, given Seska's loyalty was only shifting away from Chakotay and the rest of our Maquis unit...after roughly four to five months of being stranded in the Delta Quadrant… Moderate sigh. I doubt Seska would have carried out the Obsidian Order's plans. Seska was a double agent: But in truth, for the Maquis. However…moderate sigh…I do not in any sense doubt her hatred for me. That much is certain: Even from when I first came onboard the Liberty, as a double agent for Starfleet.

Seska most likely planned to implement her plans for me and the Maquis…even after we became stranded in the Delta Quadrant. Heavy sigh! Deep breath! Deep breath. However, my assumption is that she planned to…as soon as she gave the Kazons replicator technology. But, when that part of her plans gruesomely failed…and she joined Maje Culluh's crew… She lacked both the time and the motive to bring them to completion.

Sumaro had placed subcommands and a recessive genetic alteration… Moderate sigh. …within me: Which were still in place, after Seska left our crew. And, Sumaro was a Obsidian Order operative…who had been integrated into the Cardassian Intelligence Bureau a year ago. Heavy sigh. When Voyager was first rediscovered…the Cardassian Intelligence Bureau welcomed Sumaro into their organization within two days.

The method by which Sumaro would reactivate my…moderate sigh…conditioning…was by killing the real Teero and taking his place. Sob. Deep breath! Deep breath. Deep breath. Moderate sigh! After which, it was easy for him to reroute a portion of his letter for Chakotay…to myself: Through the latest data stream. More specifically… Moderate sigh. Within a letter of my own: From my eldest son Sek.

In Tuvok's eyes…

Back in the Brig, Tuvok is close to the breaking point. He shouts, "get away from me!" He gets to his feet. Against the wall, Tuvok struggles to mentally block out Seska's thundering laughter. Captain Janeway gets up. Sympathetically, she looks to him, "focus on me! You can fight her: You can…resist." With sudden realization, she urges, "stay with me, Tuvok! But, I got to warn the others." The short black haired Security officer outside is being transported to his Quarters: Leaving Captain Janeway trapped with Tuvok. Over combadge, Captain Janeway calls out, "Janeway to the Bridge! Bridge, come in! Doctor?! Sniffle. Damn!"

On the Bridge…Harry Kim is coming out of the turbolift: With Ayala at Tactical. Ayala slightly nods to him, "good to see you up and about." Harry Kim slightly sighs, "good to be back." He then surprisingly takes out his phaser, and stuns a shocked Ayala. The other Bridge officers aim their phasers at him…but they don't fire. Lon Suder's carrier wave disabled them…several hours ago. Harry Kim slightly laughs, "I suggest you stay where you are. The Maquis are in command now."

He's already at his station: Forcibly transporting everyone else on the Bridge to their Quarters…and locking them down. But, also the Security officer in the Brig. Harry Kim slightly laughs, "good. All going according to Seska's plan." He then manually shuts down the EMH Doctor's program, caught completely unaware.

Meanwhile, in Sick Bay…the EMH Doctor and Tom Paris are checking on B'Elanna. With a tricorder in hand, the EMH Doctor urges, "hold still…please." Impatiently, B'Elanna comments, "I'm fine, Doctor. Moderate sigh! Trust me: If I start grabbing a phaser…" Tom Paris slightly chuckles, "let's hope not." The EMH Doctor is noticing something strange: From the side monitors. The brainwaves picked up from the cortical monitors…all start bending hard to the right.

The EMH Doctor says, "now, this is strange." In uncertainty, Tom Paris asks, "what is it?" The EMH Doctor says, "I'm not sure. Sickbay to Commander Ch…" Then, his program is deactivated. Tom Paris looks around, very confused. He inquires, "computer?! Who gave th…?" Then, Chakotay comes into Sick Bay: Taking out his phaser. He slightly laughs, "I believe we have some unfinished business." Chakotay fires his phaser at a surprised Tom Paris. Tom Paris tries to fire back...but his phaser is disabled. Chakotay stuns him.

B'Elanna slightly laughs, "not anymore. What's the plan?" Chakotay slightly smiles uncharacteristically, "secure this deck. Tabor and Jor have already secured Main Engineering. I'll join you on the Bridge." He hands B'Elanna his phaser. She adds, "right." Chakotay and B'Elanna head out of Sick Bay…in two different directions.

From Tuvok's Quarters…

The Obsidian Order's original intent…was to use me to implant subcommands… Sob. Deep breath. Deep breath! Through the rest of Chakotay's Maquis unit: To turn into mindless Cardassian soldiers, and to recruit enough such soldiers to bring forth a Occupation…of the Federation. Logically, the Occupation of Bajor would be brought back under that Occupation. Cardassian Intelligence welcomed in Sumaro for one purpose: Moderate sigh. To use the Obsidian Order's plan, with a small change.

In light of the painful tragedy that befell Cardassia…at the end of the Dominion War… Cardassian Intelligence did not want to have mindless soldiers…but slave labor from throughout the Delta Quadrant to rebuild their people. Since it is clear that it will be only a matter of time before we get back to the Alpha Quadrant… Heavy sigh. To Cardassian Intelligence, our crew was seen as more than enough mindless soldiers to bring a Occupation of the Federation: On their behalf.

At least…that was the Obsidian Order's plan. Obviously… Moderate sigh! Sob. Deep breath! Deep breath. Not Seska's.

In Tuvok's eyes…

Seska's image laughs, "don't deny your true self: Your violence…your anger. You would love to kill Lon Sunder…if you ever got the chance again. I can give you…that "peace"." Into his hands, a shaking Tuvok cries out, "no! I don't…kill! I'm not… Sob!"

On the Bridge, Seven beams in: Behind Harry Kim. He slightly sighs nervously, "wait: I thought you were on your way to Astro…metrics." Seven takes out a phaser. She mutters, "I'm not that "logical". My Agony Stimulator helped me wake up." In Harry Kim's confusion, Seven swings her phaser into his head: Knocking him out cold. Seven moderately sighs, "I'm sorry…but it was necessary to stop you. You can thank me later: Once you're back to…normality." She injects her Borg assimilation tubules into the main sensors…getting transporter locks on the brainwashed crewmembers. But…Tabor and Jor are using Main Engineering to turn off the main sensors on her. Seven mutters lowly to herself, "Seska!"

Tuvok cries, "please…don't…!" Facing him directly, Captain Janeway sighs hard, "you're Lieutenant Commander Tuvok. Your wife is T'Pel. You…" Seska's voice mutters harshly, "not anymore…Captain." Seska-Tuvok is slowly becoming hardened all over: With Cardassian skin. Neck ridges are surfacing. Seska-Tuvok grabs Captain Janeway by the throat, choking her against the Brig wall. Her phaser drops to the floor.

Then, Chakotay comes in. He urges to Seska-Tuvok, "Seska…what the hell do you think you're doing?!" Seska-Tuvok lets go, surprised. Captain Janeway struggles to catch her breath. Seska-Tuvok mutters cruelly, "what does it look like, Chakotay? She's a Starfleet captain…who has kept us here for years: She deserves to die." She picks up Captain Janeway's phaser, aiming it at her. Chakotay drops the force field. He urges insistently, "I thought we agreed that we weren't going to kill anyone! If you do still love me…you'd take me at my word." Captain Janeway hears footsteps. She moderately sighs, "oh, please. I don't know what Seska's done to you. But…she was going to kill me. I wouldn't trust her."

Chakotay turns to Seska-Tuvok, "is this true?" Seska-Tuvok scoffs, "you don't actually…?" Captain Janeway calls out, "now!" Kellin turns off her personal cloak…as she stuns a surprised Seska-Tuvok with her phaser. In the confusion, Captain Janeway side punches Chakotay against the wall: Knocking him out. On the floor, Tuvok starts returning to normal. Captain Janeway slightly chuckles, "not a moment too soon. How is the rest of…?"

Kellin mostly assures Captain Janeway, "it's all right now, Captain. The crew is slowly, but surely getting back to normal."

Several freed Security officers are walking to Sick Bay: Including Ayala. They're escorting a knocked out Tabor, a knocked out B'Elanna, and a knocked out crewman Jor there.

Captain Janeway slightly nods thankfully, "that's good. Hard sigh. I just hope Tuvok is just as lucky." Kellin concludes uneasily, "well, he's going to be all right now. Moderate sigh. Isn't he?" Captain Janeway concludes sadly, "I sure hope so, Kellin. I sure hope so."

From Tuvok's Quarters…

I expect Cardassian Intelligence is bound to deny the attempt: Despite all the evidence pointing to it. But…moderate sigh…what is most essential to understand in the end is that it was stopped. And, that my genetic transformation also was treated: Once the Doctor knew full well of the cause of the genetic transformation, and was able to treat it. I am highly grateful to the Doctor…for being revived from Seska's "repression".

Perhaps at one time…my personality was more like Seska's personality than I wanted to think. But… Moderate sigh. That was four years ago. In my years out in the Delta Quadrant…with this crew… I have grown to respect both Chakotay and Captain Janeway's logic: For the strengths and the flaws of both. Perhaps even Mister Paris's logic: To some extent. I cannot deny that Seska's dormant mind control over me... Heavy sigh. However dormant it was to begin with… Deep breath. It had a large influence on my own logic, in one form or another.

The manifestations of Seska's influence on me most likely manifested in bad ways: Moderate sigh. Prior to becoming aware of it. But, as much as I want to deny this… Moderate sigh. I have no doubt in my mind that it shall remain a part of me. To deny a part of my logic is to deny my own sense of being: My mind. I doubt this instance to be much different.


	12. Season 7: Body and Soul

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

Body and Soul:

On the USS Voyager, from Seven's Borg alcove…

Private log, Seven of Nine, Stardate 54243.087. After having already experienced several highly uncomfortable neurological states… Sniffle. I was under the assumption that there would not be others.

But, as the Captain has pointed out on many occasions: When it comes to the Delta Quadrant… It's never easy. Slight uneasy chuckle. Perhaps not always in those exact words. But, it tends to come back to the same sentiment.

It began on a Beta Squad mission…for collecting deuterium. We were fully aware we still had a reasonable number of light years left of deuterium to fuel the warp core. But, that was not the primary reason why: Ensign Chell was. Our…main cook in recent months. Slight chuckle. He had the questionably intriguing theory of synthesizing ingredients out of deuterium: Through the replicators. His cooking is fairly questionable: Quite "grainy" at times. Though...his theory had some accomplishment. For grains, it was efficient. For everything else…slight sigh...far from it. As a individual, I respected Neelix. But even then, Neelix's cooking was much more questionable: Which I am not sorry to say.

Aside from that... There was the mission itself. With two days of exploration, it should have carried with it a routine sense of calmness. But, before we knew it… Deep sigh. We found ourselves caught in a war zone.

In Seven's eyes…

In the red padded seats of the Delta Flyer II, Gryzil is at Helm control. The cockpit shakes like it's in a tornado. Mounted on top of the Sensors control station is a certain mostly gray Gravimetric Sensor Array: From the Annual Voyager Science Fair, designed by Icheb. From the back, the agitated EMH Doctor urges, "Ensign Gryzil, I asked you to hold us steady!" Gryzil slightly chuckles nervously, "now might be a bad time, Doc: Unless you'd rather let this ship blow us off our asses."

The Delta Flyer II tailspins past high focused greenish yellow disruptor fire. It's coming from a Lokirrim warship the size of three shuttles: Stingray shaped, with its hull made up of silvery mirror arrays. The mirror arrays make a natural cloaking field, blending in with the darkness of space. But fortunately, the Gravimetric Sensor Array detected its presence early on.

The EMH Doctor gets to the cockpit, barely holding on to the framing between sections. Seven urges urgently, "would you excuse me, Doctor?" The EMH Doctor slightly nods, "of course." He bends back, letting her get to the Tactical station. But, by then, the Delta Flyer II is shaking violently. Seven reports nervously, "shields down to thirty two percent." The patrol ship is gaining on the Delta Flyer II, coming in fast. The Delta Flyer II fires its pulse phased weapons at it, resembling torpedo sized dark blue Borg missiles. Seven moderately sighs, "direct hit. Moderate damage to their forward shielding…but we cannot survive much longer."

With Gryzil very much focused on keeping the Delta Flyer one step ahead, the EMH Doctor decides to open a channel: Directly from the main computer. He addresses the alien vessel, "this is the Doctor of the Federation shuttle Delta Flyer. We're only firing in self defense: We're on a mission of mercy!" Over communications, a unseen woman's voice responds, "heavy sigh. In our space, all photonics are purged: No exceptions. I'm sorry." The EMH Doctor shouts lowly, "and I'm supposed to find that comforting?!" The voice continues, "stand down, or we will be forced to purge your shuttle."

Trying not to show her shakiness, Seven orders, "Mister Gryzil… Moderate sigh! All stop." Gryzil moderately sighs, "all stop." Over communications, Seven reports, "shields…are down." The Delta Flyer lowers its shields. Seven continues, "but, we request a minute to prepare for your purge." The voice urges harshly, "you have thirty seconds."

The channel closes. Optimistically, the EMH Doctor reasons, "and I suppose you have a plan?" Seven answers, "yes. The main computer should be adequate enough to store your program. Mister Gryzil, prepare a distress beacon…but don't launch it." Very much unsure, Gryzil turns to her, "Seven?" Seven urges lowly, "just do it!" A little shaken, Gryzil goes to carry out her order. The EMH Doctor starts to protest, "but, you sure…?" Urgently, Seven mostly assures, "no time to explain! Trust me…please." Quite curiously, she injects her Borg assimilation tubules into the confused EMH Doctor's mobile emitter.

The Lokirrim patrol ship is locking on, with a bright green tractor beam. The EMH Doctor slightly nods solemnly, "very well. Good luck." He goes back into his mobile emitter, which Seven catches before it falls. She presses its secondary emitter up against the side of the main computer, just as several Lokirrim are coming in. They wear arrow patterned mostly silvery mirrors for environmental suits: With three big gold arrowhead shaped lines across the chest plates. The same voice from not so long ago orders lowly, "hands where we can see them: Now!" Her name is Jaryn. She and a second Lokirrim carry dark red rod shaped disruptors.

Seven and Gryzil put their hands up. Jaryn takes the mobile emitter from Seven. She checks suspiciously, "what were you just doing?" Seven slightly chuckles, "it's a…engineering tool. Multipurpose." Jaryn coldly figures, "I think you're lying. This is the photonic's hiding place, isn't it?" With a dark red rod device, one of the Lokirrim scans the area. He reports, "airborne photons secure: No photonics." The second Lokirrim reports, "computer data is not secure: A photonic." Jaryn orders, "take them into custody. Wipe out all photonic traces."

Seven voices furiously, "no!" She punches Jaryn out with Borg like precision, against the Lokirrim with the scanner. Jaryn blacks out, on top of a stunned Lokirrim body. With the second Lokirrim about to fire with his disruptor, Gryzil rams his phaser into his side. The coughing violently Lokirrim though fires back, stunning Gryzil. They both fall to the floor.

Seven prepares to depressurize the airlock, hoping to break the Delta Flyer II away. But, on the other side of the airlock, a fourth Lokirrim stuns her. His name is Ranek. Seven falls to the floor. Ranek mutters coldly, "not in our space, you don't." He violently kicks Seven's limp body: Some dark red liquid dripping from her mouth.

From Seven's Borg alcove…

That…was a highly agonizing neurological state. Deep breath. Sniffle! A high sense of fear...for the Doctor's well being. Especially when I awoke: Alone, and in a cell. At the time… Heavy sigh. I thought they were successful in eliminating the Doctor. I…was close to experiencing hopelessness. But, my link with the Doctor: I found it was still online. And by that same logic…so was the Doctor. Slight chuckle. At the time, it was much more than a fair source of peace.

In Seven's eyes…

There are no lights: Only mirrors for walls…and the light captured in their frames. On the Lokirrim patrol ship's Bridge, there are a few green rimed crystal blue spinner modeled screens: Along with gold bubble like chairs. Stored in mirror covered refrigerator units in the back…are the pile of deuterium and the cytoplasmic matrix from the Delta Flyer: Confiscated after Seven and Gryzil were taken into custody. The two detention cells though… Their doors blend with the walls. Only the door handles are visible, but blended in the walls as well.

And inside the detention cells…there is darkness. A localized photonic disruption field generator keeps it that way. Not even a crack of a reflection comes in: Only a restocked air supply, through unseen tubes.

Like a whisper, Seven hears the EMH Doctor's voice. He says, "Seven? Seven, do you…?" Teary eyed with great relief, Seven slightly chuckles, "yes." In her head, the EMH Doctor urges, "please…keep it down. They might hear you." Seven think adds, "sorry, Doctor. Moderate sigh. But…we thought you were decompiled." The EMH Doctor think chuckles lightly, "obviously, the reports of my decompilation have been greatly exaggerated." Seven think figures, "still… Heavy sigh. Somehow, the Lokirrim detected your residual photonic "traces". Didn't think that was even possible. But, it is good to hear you."

Surrounded by a rainfall of bright blue light particles, the EMH Doctor thinks nervously, "well…let's just say it might be "more" possible than you might think." Seven thinks doubtfully, "more possible, Doctor? Unlikely. Besides… Moderate sigh. Right now, we should focus our efforts on escaping: Not…!" The EMH Doctor sighs heavily, "Seven, there's hundreds of photonics: Here, in the Delta Flyer's computer. Apparently… I'm not the only one." Between the light particle raindrops, color phasing photonic lifeforms with starfish shaped bodies swirl about: Taking in the light particles they themselves designed. They're called the Ba'neth.

From Seven's Borg alcove…

When I found out that hundreds of lives were at risk of being purged by the Lokirrim… Moderate sigh. I fully realized then that this was a war zone: With the Lokirrim against the Ba'neth. Given the routine purges of the Lokirrim, it appeared to have started at least five years ago: Perhaps twenty. I had no other factual evidence to conclude anything from. So, I was naturally suspicious. Also, on most occasions with alien cultures in the Delta Quadrant… Sob. Deep sigh! Hatred can be agonizingly abundant.

In this instance though…there seemed to be no sympathy to speak of. No alien worth preserving...sniffle…on either side. That is what truly brought the most agonizing neurological state…I ever experienced. Deep breath. Deep breath. Heavy sigh.

Some time ago, the Ba'neth were holograms of the Lokirrim: Their property for "personal favors". The Ba'neth self advanced to the point of individuality, and had been fighting for their survival since then. Yet, they did not even attempt to communicate with the Lokirrim: With such close "personal" relations between them. They were killing them as soon as they were able! Sniffle! Deep breath. The Lokirrim became militaristic bastards governed on "personal favors": On their terms and conditions! Even the Borg are not as cruel.

Captain Ranek even tried to coerce me into his "desire" to "work me over!" Sniffle. Deep breath. Deep breath. But fortunately…

In Seven's eyes…

Seven is being escorted to a silvery mirror room by several Lokirrim: With their environmental suits off, and their matching uniforms showing. Their mainly human like V impressed foreheads show as well. And with the near blindness of the mirrored light, Seven struggles to regain her vision. By the time she does, her escorts already left: Leaving her to the sleazy looking medium black haired Ranek, in his Lokirrim uniform. They're in his private Quarters: With a gold bubble like bed, and a hung up snapshot of a bluish and reddish mural like swirled pulsar cluster called the Window of Dreams.

Seven mutters coldly, "if a guest calls you something "unpleasant", would you lock them up as well?" Ranek laughs mercilessly, "you're no guest…or much of a woman. It's been a long time since I saw…a "cybernetic" such as yourself." With a cold glare, Seven urges, "just tell me what you want with me." Ranek mutters creepily, "the same we ask of anyone that "gets out of line" on our ship: We "work them over." Until your "personal favor" is paid up." He moves in on Seven. Fearfully, Seven instinctively backs away, "and Gryzil?"

Ranek concludes, "I don't need him to be "worked over." You're plenty for…" He tries to force kiss her, when Seven knees him between the legs. Ranek gasps in unspeakable pain, teary eyed. Seven then kicks him violently, against the side of the bed. Ranek blacks out: His chest heavily bruised, and faintly moving. Seven is shaking and teary eyed…from what almost happened. But, she confidently shouts at his direction, "well bastard, how do you like me now?! Right: Moderate sigh. You can't hear me. How unfortunate for you."

From Seven's Borg alcove…

…I resisted efficiently. But, with a crew consisting of eight Lokirrim…we had to move quickly.

Fortunately, the Doctor had already launched the distress beacon: While me and Gryzil failed to resist the Lokirrim boarding party. Slight bittersweet chuckle. He also was able to send encoded schematics of a Lokirrim patrol ship: Through the distress signal.

A day had passed…and our collective on Voyager was on their way to rescue us. But, in my link with the Doctor…over mere nanoseconds… Moderate sigh. Something was beginning to become all too clear to me: That the Doctor was not going to just abandon other photonic lifeforms to their war…no matter how murderous they might still have been.

By then, we both already knew full well about the relevancies of the Ba'neth and the Lokirrim's questionable histories: With the Doctor in constant communication with the Ba'neth themselves. Moderate sigh! Much to my discomfort. But, in retrospect… Slight uneasy chuckle. Perhaps I can admire the Doctor's logic in this matter. More specifically…slight sigh…for the plan he had in mind for preserving the Ba'neth.

In Seven's eyes…

With Captain Renak's Lokirrim scanning rod in hand, Seven goes right up to Gryzil's detention cell: Turning its door handle with the right frequency. Seven thinks to the EMH Doctor, "only a matter of seconds before the crew discovers my presence. Moderate sigh. You sure about this, Doctor? About the rest of this plan of yours?" The EMH Doctor sigh thinks, "of course! With this plan, we can put a end to the killings." As Seven opens the detention cell door, she starts to hear the echoing of footsteps. Seven think mutters, "please correct me if I'm wrong. But, how can you be certain they'll be as logical as yourself? As far as I'm concerned, not a single one of them are worthy of my sympathy!"

Out of several incoming Lokirrim, a Lokirrim calls out, "step away from the door: Now!" They're getting out their disruptors. Gryzil is struggling to regain his vision: His detention cell flowing in mirrored light. The EMH Doctor thinks to Seven, "heavy sigh! Not entirely. But, if we can save millions of lives…it's worth the risk." Seven thinks back, "heavy sigh! Sniffle. In this instance…I'm afraid I very much doubt that. But whatever happens, Doctor…I'm not going to leave you to be decompiled." Becoming teary eyed from her thoughts, Seven continues on anyway. She uses the open door as cover, against disruptor fire.

To Gryzil, she says lowly, "can you handle a phaser?" Still a little disoriented, Gryzil slightly chuckles, "ask me again in a second." Seven points out, "that's a second we don't have." She spin kicks a third Lokirrim down, from around the door. She falls to the floor, stunned. Seven tosses Gryzil her disruptor. Slightly smiling, Gryzil reasons, "I'll "adapt"." Seven slightly chuckles, "no doubt you will." Together, they make it for the Bridge: All three Lokirrim there stunned to the floor.

Seven urges, "keep moving, Ensign: I'm right behind you." Gryzil slightly nods, continuing onto the Bridge. Seven interestingly injects her Borg assimilation tubules into each of their necks. Then, she continues on. At the same time, Gryzil fires a disruptor blast squarely into the long dark brown straight haired Commander Jaryn: Who's also in uniform. She falls stunned on the floor. Over the patrol ship's communications, Gryzil confirms, "Gryzil to Seven: Bridge is secure." Seven's on her way to the Bridge. Sounding satisfied, Seven slightly nods, "acknowledged."

Several stars away, Voyager detects another Lokirrim patrol ship. Onboard, Tuvok is very uneasy: Struggling to fight the Pon Farr within, and to not show it. Harry Kim reports, "Captain…I'm picking up a Lokirrim warp signature." Fairly nervous, Captain Janeway orders, "target their power matrix. We may only get one shot. Hard sigh. Let's make it count."

Tuvok reports, "weapons ready." Captain Janeway adds intently, "fire." Voyager fires phasers into the blended Lokirrim patrol ship, disabling it in space. Captain Janeway checks warily, "any signs of the away team?" Harry Kim moderately sighs, "none." Nervously, Captain Janeway voices determinedly, "Tom…resume course." Quite nervously, Tom Paris adds, "resuming course." Chakotay suddenly picks up on something, "wait: Hold your position."

Captain Janeway turns to him curiously, "Commander?" Chakotay reasons, "another Lokirrim ship. I can just make out its shape." Very much astounded, Harry Kim reports, "he's right. It's coming to a holding position, one thousand kilometers off our starboard bow. But, Captain…it's not charging weapons." In hopefulness, Captain Janeway is piecing it together, "the away team?" She gets to her feet. A little surprised, Tuvok adds, "possibly. We're receiving a hail." Captain Janeway says, "onscreen."

The viewscreen cuts to the EMH Doctor, his face between the light particle raindrops. His uniform is now that of a Captain's: As a Emergency Command Hologram. But for a month or so, the crew has already become well aware of his self invented emergency protocol. Captain Janeway looks curiously, "Doctor? Are you and the others…?" The EMH Doctor figures solemnly, "I'm afraid there's no time for pleasantries, Captain." A second screen cuts in, with Seven on the second Lokirrim patrol ship's Bridge. She concludes, "several more Lokirrim ships are on their way: Apparently, the adrift Lokirrim ship sent out a distress call."

Tuvok reports, "their shields are down: I have a lock." Captain Janeway figures, "good. Seven, Doctor…we're beaming you out of there." Over communications on Voyager, she orders, "transporter room, stand by for transport." A random crewmember adds, "standing by."

Nervously, the EMH Doctor urges, "beam the rest of the away team aboard. But Captain…I can't leave just yet." Captain Janeway pinpoints warily, "in case you haven't noticed, Doctor… Time is in short supply right now." Heavily sighing, the EMH Doctor insists, "I know this might be difficult for you to grasp. But…we're in the middle of a war zone. And, I have a means to end this war." Captain Janeway insists, "and I can't leave without you! Sniffle. I'll take a shuttle if I have to."

From Astrometrics, Naomi reports, "ma'am… Five patrol ships are coming out of warp: In one minute, five seconds." Chakotay adds warily, "acknowledged." He closes the channel. Chakotay then turns back to the Captain, "Captain, we…!" The EMH Doctor urges, "that won't be necessary, Chakotay. I appreciate the thought, Captain. But…I'm confident I'll still be here." Captain Janeway deeply sighs, "you better be." She and the EMH Doctor exchange a slight smile.

Over communications, Captain Janeway orders, "Transporter room, beam out Seven and Gryzil. The Doctor will be coming shortly. Tom, take us out...at half impulse." Tom Paris adds, "yes, ma'am." The crippled Lokirrim ship is getting its weapons back online…but not in time to fire them. Voyager goes to warp, stopping just out of range of the small Lokirrim fleet's long range sensors.

In the Delta Flyer's computer banks, the light particle waterfall turns into a self looping fountain: Out of the rising edges of a forming color shifting light particle ocean. The ECH-EMH Doctor looks to its center…where Captain Renak's crew awakes: Thanks to a temporarily established telemetry link established by Seven's assimilation tubules. And over all the Lokirrim's subspace channels, a ultrasonic wave takes out the Lokirrim people altogether: Engineered by the EMH Doctor in nanoseconds. The telemetry link taps into their cerebral cortexes. And pretty soon, all the Lokirrim are coming out of the light particle fountain.

Waiting for them are the Ba'neth: Ready with giant very dark blue photonic cannons, carried by teams of eight. They blink lights at each other, characteristic of laughing. In the light particle fountain's edges, replicated copies of the EMH Doctor are singing Once in a Lifetime by the Talking Heads. And swirling around are memory fragments of the Ba'neth: Rising up to rebel against their original creators with holographic phasing attacks. Several more memory fragments flash by in nanoseconds…of the costly Lokirrim-Ba'neth war across the Lokirrim's own systems and beyond.

Captain Renak demands, "and just what photonic blasphemy…?!" The ECH-EMH Doctor slightly chuckles coolly, "Emergency Command Hologram of the Federation starship Voyager…at your service. I suggest you stand down and agree to leave the Ba'neth alone. Unless of course, you wish to be vaporized: Which I very much doubt you do." The Lokirrim reluctantly put their hands up, with no weapons to fire back with.

From Seven's alcove…

It was not long before the Doctor returned the Lokirrim to their ships. But… It was miraculously effective. The Ba'neth and the Lokirrim have gone their separate ways…as we ourselves already have. The Doctor is back on Voyager. Though…it's apparent that he somehow misses the Ba'neth: Despite the highly questionable ways of both the Ba'neth and the Lokirrim! Heavy sigh! Deep breath.

However, at one point… Marla Gilmore was one such individual. Yet…her actions have redeemed her in the minds of most of the crew. I myself still think to the contrary. Though admittedly… Heavy sigh. I'm beginning to respect why it could change for many others.

Perhaps the Ba'neth can redeem themselves in the minds of others. Perhaps not. But to me…that is irrelevant. I'm fairly certain I will never change my opinion about such matters. Marla Gilmore is no exception. For that matter, why should there be for anyone else? Slight bittersweet chuckle. I believe I just answered my own question. End log.


	13. Season 7: Critical Care(Sides A-B)

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

Critical Care(Sides A-B):

Side A

From a Dinaali hospital ship…

Begin letter. Dear Kathryn… Heavy sigh. I sincerely hope this isn't my final hour. That is… Heavy sigh. If I'm not momentarily discovered and decompiled. Sniffle. I do not doubt the crew is trying to rescue me: Least of all…you.

In the EMH Doctor's eyes…

Over a soot covered planet, a mostly brownish gray fighter jet like shuttlecraft with yellow striped rocket engines is coming for a landing: For a hovering mostly black and red striped warp core styled Dinaali hospital ship, with a large satellite dish like hovercraft engine holding it up. Seated in the side seat of the shuttlecraft…is the EMH Doctor. He has his medkit beside his seat. At the Helm is Gar: A very pale gray komodo dragon like Dralian, with a claw like impression on the forehead. He has very dark brown medium hair, past the front half of his head. And, he wears a very oily black jacket. Gar slightly laughs, "is that all you're bringing, Doctor?"

Annoyedly, the EMH Doctor moderately sighs, "on the contrary, Mister Gar: I'm programmed with over five million medical procedures. If we're going to help your good Dinaali friend treat a highly contagious hypercapnia plague…we'll need to use resources available from the planet's surface to treat them all in time." With no human like lifeforms supposedly able to set foot on this planet without dying themselves…the EMH Doctor has come alone. Gar's ship also "happened" to be on route to the Dinaali homeworld…around the same time as Voyager was: In response to a Dinaali distress beacon, from the Dinaali government itself.

Smiling suspiciously to himself, Gar says lowly, "and that's why you're here, mister medical hologram. No offense." Gar's shuttlecraft docks in the Dinaali hospital ship's matching shuttle bays.

The EMH Doctor mutters, "I doubt your sincerity…or lack thereof." He and Gar walk out of the shuttlecraft. Gar slightly laughs, "well: When Voyager circles back for you, I'll be long gone." The EMH Doctor mutters under his breath, "I can hardly wait."

Down a dark blue lit hallway, a scanner scans them both as they enter. Further in, a computer voice chimes creepily, "Trauma Team Four to Level Red. Trauma Team Four to Level Red. Code Four Nursing Unit, report to Level Red." A second computer voice sounds off, "negative for dysplasia…viremia…necrobiosis. Species, Dralian. Identity, Gar. TC Fifteen. You may proceed. Hologram. Identity, Emergency Medical Hologram. TC Thirteen. You may proceed." The main computer for all the computers here is simply called the Allocator.

A alien with a all curved horn like ridged forehead is standing there. His name is Chellick, with medium very dark brown frontless hair. Chellick's alien skin looks phaser burned, but in a sickeningly fairly paled way. He wears a tan silvery dress uniform, with a gray silvery V as the neckpiece. In a rugged calm, Chellick mutters, "Mister Gar. You caught me at a bad time. Come back tomorrow." He starts to walk off.

Gar urges intently, "Chellick. What I have arranged for you today is better than twenty neural monitors: Which I know you placed a order for. I have here a holographic construct: Programmed with over five million medical procedures." Suddenly curious, Chellick considers, "go on." Grimly, the EMH Doctor starts to realize, "there was never really a hypercania plague…was there?"

Chellick moderately sighs, "not exactly. I'm afraid you're fifty years late to treat it. You sure it's in working order, Gar?" The EMH Doctor mutters lowly, "this negotiation is pointless! Once Captain Janeway realizes what you…" Chellick looks suspicious, "who's that?" The EMH Doctor explains agitatedly, "the Captain of the very same Federation Starship to which I'm assigned: Voyager! Obviously, this man is a…kidnapper."

Gar slightly laughs, "actually, Doctor…you signed on. Remember?" Gar has taken out a dark brown Dinaali PADD from his pockets: To show to the EMH Doctor. It has on it a very extensive Dinaali form: Classification Six One J, which is specially for new applicants to Dinaali Hosptial Ships. It's with bright white boxes, lined and spiraled from within by jet black circuit board symbolic Dinaali script. With the EMH Doctor's failure to read through all the legal terms…even after learning Dinaali language to read it… He suddenly realizes that it was for that purpose alone. And there on the very bottom was his own signature code: From a very complex equation to determine his unique applicant number.

The EMH Doctor mutters angrily, "you're going to pay for...!" He's about to take out his phaser to stun Gar. Not taking any chances, Chellick shocks the EMH Doctor's mobile emitter: With a dark brown disruptor on his person. The EMH Doctor falls back into the mobile emitter.

To counteract Chellick's growing suspicion, Gar nervously says, "nothing a little "reeducation" won't fix…I assure you. The merchant I acquired this hologram from used some components from a distress beacon to make it. They may be causing him to think it's still fifty years ago. I assume Voyager was the name of a lost Dinaali ship…before you came to help save this planet." Sounding fairly impressed, Chellick reasons, "what's your price?" With a creepy smile, Gar figures, "not more or less than what we agreed on. After all…it's already your property." Chellick slightly laughs, "if this hologram turns out to be in working order…you'll have your money within the hour." Gar mostly assures him, "I wouldn't expect less."

From the EMH Doctor's letter…

But, if you do find my mobile emitter…without me on it… I want you to do one thing for me. Ok: Two. I want you to donate it to the Daystrom Institute: So that future holograms can enjoy the freedom I've been able to enjoy. And…

Sorry. Sniffle. I'm getting too emotional here.

In the EMH Doctor's eyes…

The Dinaali have fairly rounded faces, but are otherwise very much human like. Some patients are in silvery blue medical gowns on Level Blue: "Highly regarded" in what's left of Dinaali society, and exceptionally well. Most patient though are in raggedly red robes on Level Red: With sickening boils and burns left, coming from too little medications. That is, until their dead corpses are transferred to Level White: When the Allocator's automatic environmental systems passes over them and changes environmental controls to eliminate the leftover contagious diseases.

Down a red lit hallway, the EMH Doctor is changing his holographic parameters: Going from his silvery blue Level Blue Dinaali doctor uniform with a silvery V neckpiece…to a raggedly Level Red Dinaali assistant doctor's robes. For four days now, the EMH Doctor has been putting up a facsimile of himself in his place: For the medication rounds on Level Blue, for the "highly regarded" Dinaali. And all the while, the EMH Doctor has been switching the TC numbers on the labels: From the storage rooms, before they go out on rounds. As he walks down the halls of Level Red, The EMH Doctor smiles to himself: Thinking back on those days.

The EMH Doctor signed a Dinaali Four Five V form to give himself a Level Red identity: As a forty year old Dinaali man, with a full head of hair. He's been working alongside a young medium blondish brown frontless haired Dinaali named Voje: Who at first resented him for being a "know-it-all". And, there was a certain bright Dinaali patient with medium dark blond hair named Tebbis: Who at first was accepting of his slow death, for having a low TC level. But, as the days went by...

More and more patients were getting better, and returning home to their colony ships. They look very similar to Dinaali hospital ships, but in mostly dark gray and dark blue striped hulls. With the Dinaali homeworld's surface long gone, it's all that's physically left of the Dinaali's society.

Since the TC level seemed unchanged, only Voje questioned it. And even then, the EMH Doctor convinced him, "of course not. With my low TC level… Slight sigh. I couldn't possibly go up to Level Blue. Perhaps the Allocator is simply "getting better" at its function." Voje started to respect the EMH Doctor. And, Tebbis started being hopeful.

But as the EMH Doctor walks down the halls, his smile fades quickly. He realizes it's empty: No Voje...no patients. The EMH Doctor calls out, "Tebbis?! Voje?! Anyone?" Then, a glaring Chellick appears: As if on cue. He mutters, "Doctor…there's something on Level White I think you should see. Tell me what you make of it." With a creepy sense of nervousness, the EMH Doctor follows Chellick to a singular white lit hallway. It stretches across a entire deck. And laid across it are the dead corpses…of every single patient the EMH Doctor and his newfound friends treated. Tebbis…is sadly among them.

The EMH Doctor turns to Chellick, "why?!" Chellick coldly adds to the chill, "I thought you could tell me. Apparently…they developed complications: Because someone gave them unauthorized injections. Yet, the TC levels read exactly the same: As it always has been. Heavy sigh. Did you think I wouldn't put two and two together, Doctor? Did you?!" The EMH Doctor mutters harshly, "What kind of complications?" Chellick dismissively voices, "a secondary infection: A lethal virus. It spread rapidly through their nervous systems." The EMH Doctor looks suspiciously at him, "how was it treated?" Chellick figures, "it wasn't. The patients had exceeded their medication allotment. And, until this medical crisis is…!"

Teary eyed, the EMH Doctor is on the verge of tears, "that's not what it was…and you know it! Don't you have any ethical standards?! Don't you care about anyone but your "precious patients" on Level Blue? Do you?! Answer me!" Chellick mutters harshly, "if I didn't…we wouldn't be having this discussion." The EMH Doctor argues, "I was trying to save lives. And how many have you just killed…for the sake of the Allocator?!"

Chellick comments, "you are hardly in a position to speak to me of ethics. I am trying to ensure the future of a society: As the Dinaali themselves asked of our people. If they weren't a drain on resources…they wouldn't deserve death." The EMH Doctor remarks, "you're not just rationing health care here. You're trying to justify getting rid of the sick and the weak! And one was named Tebbis: A doctor in the making, who certainly deserved better than to die!"

Chellick insists furiously, "if the boy had been fit, he would have survived! Face the facts, Doctor: The Dinaali employed me here to make the hard choices they can't afford to make. And, I'm looking at one." The EMH Doctor scoffs, "can't you not afford to lose me? Your new precious "Doctor"? The one you "paid for fair and square"?!"

Chellick just laughs, at the falling face of the EMH Doctor. Chellick figures calculatingly, "with enough facsimiles of your program…we won't need Dinaali doctors to make hard choices anymore. More to the point, Doctor…you're soon to be a drain on resources. You'll be decompiled within the hour: As soon as they're ready to be distributed for all of the Dinaali's hospital ships."

The EMH Doctor sighs heavily, not believing what he's hearing. But, a short while after… He gathers, "I suppose you've taken the liberty of keeping your disruptor on your person." Twistedly, Chellick concludes outwardly, "suppose I have. Moderate sigh. Too bad your TC Level has lowered in this manner: With your efficiency, I would've let you contact your "Voyager"…even though I'd think that'd be a waste of time. You should feel grateful I'm not shooting you now: Because…even your carelessness has become beneficial to Dinaali society." The EMH Doctor shoots back, "more than I can say for you."

Chellick mutters coldly, "I'm trying to say I respect you…in some manner. Despite my contempt. You sure you don't have a reasonable last request, Doctor?" The EMH Doctor decides defeatedly, "I suppose I can think of one: Sniffle. A letter for…someone that has become very dear to me. But, I'll need a room in Level Blue."

From the EMH Doctor's letter…

But Kathryn, whatever happens to me…please remember that I love you. Even if we did indeed fight half the time… Slight nervous chuckle. I don't regret our time together. Go on with your life, love whoever makes you happy… Deep sigh. But, all I can really ask of you is that you don't forget our time together.

If I get back to Voyager…and to you… Heavy sigh! I hope you understand that what I'm about to do is because…I really was left with no other choice. Because I've been "sold" to a extremely unethical hospital system, and the only way to save the Dinaali people from this monstrosity is… Sniffle. Leverage.

In the EMH Doctor's eyes…

In the dimness of Level Blue, the EMH Doctor puts down a Dinaali PADD. Chellick is standing at the exit for Level Blue, waiting for him to be done. Next to a silvery blue sheeted bed, the EMH Doctor is in the process of transferring his letter to the Allocator's computers. With Chellick's head turned for only a few seconds, the EMH Doctor takes a left out silvery gray Dinaali TC medication hypospray. It was close by the Level Blue bed.

Grimly, the EMH Doctor heads towards Chellick. Chellick is about to say, "let's go, Doc…" Then, the EMH Doctor hyposprays him: Shocking his nervous system with a neural blocker within. And also in that hypospray…was the very same virus that Chellick used to kill Tebbis. In a few hours, it would take hold: Unless he gives all future Level Red patients the medications they need.

From the EMH Doctor's letter…

I take no pride in this crime. And as soon as I can, I'll by all means explain myself to you. I'll take full responsibility: Sniffle. It's the least I can do for the crew...for our family. Go on with your life, love whoever makes you happy… All I can ask is that you don't forget our time together.

Side B

On the USS Voyager, from Captain Janeway's Quarters…

Captain's personal log, Stardate 54261.065. Heavy sigh. Maybe I should've seen this coming, Kes. The day when…for whatever godforsaken reason… Sniffle. We had to face oblivion alone.

Even a ascended Ocampan can't be everywhere at once. Not to mention Kenneth: The Doctor of this crew…and often times the kindest being I could ever hope to love. Sniffle. I have only the utmost sympathy for him, in this dark time: Knowing how hard it really is not to cross that line, out here in the Delta Quadrant.

So, Kes… What I'm trying to say is… Sniffle. I can't really blame you for not being here. I blame myself…sniffle…for putting too much faith in miracles.

When we found out that the Doctor was "sold" to the Dinaali government… Heavy sigh. We knew full well that we needed reinforcements…to have a chance in hell of breaking through that Dinaali Hospital Ship. Sniffle. No, that wasn't it. We needed stealth.

Unfortunately, he took a scan of Kellin's ship…before he left. It would be detected by Chellick in seconds. Slight chuckle. Instead, Beta Squad went after Gar: To ensure that he wasn't going to con anyone else. Might have even been of some help to us. With his understanding of the Dinaali legal system…we could have tried diplomacy first. But… Sniffle. Gar had other plans in store for us: Unfortunately.

In Captain Janeway's eyes…

On the Bridge, Captain Janeway sits in the Captain's chair: Tapping her fingers on the armrest. She checks nervously, "life signs?" On the viewscreen, a debris field is seen: On the edge of a swirled dark red nebulae. Moderately sighing, Harry Kim reports, "none." Captain Janeway murmurs, "all stop. Let's investigate: See who or what is responsible. Hopefully, it'll be a short..." Tuvok reports, "Captain, I am picking up some unusual readings." Chakotay turns to him, "source?" Tuvok reports, "directly in front of us." Captain Janeway asks, "what kind of readings?"

At her station, a shaken Seven interjects her own thoughts, "I believe I have a answer, Captain. If I may?" Captain Janeway prompts, "please." From being linked to the Borg Queen years ago, Seven reasons reflectively, "two years ago, the Borg encountered a species with sophisticated cloaking technology. Slight chuckle. They're highly cautious with the Borg…avoiding assimilation at every encounter. At least…moderate sigh…as far as I know of. They call themselves The Hierarchy."

On a cloaked Hierarchy Assault class ship, within the nebulae… A very dark purple ceiling lies over very dark grayish brown stations: With quadruple undersea periscope styled coral blue touch screens, and lots of specially colored card slots. They're stationed by the Hierarchy species: With bald very sharp brown clay lump like heads, tubby chests, and bizarre helmetless suits that resemble gray microfiber sewn balloons. The card slots are for programmable orange and purple Playstation Portable styled key cards. The orange ones though only submit inquiries to the unseen intelligence that drives the Hierarchy.

A head Assessor checks uneasily, "Secondary Assessor… Are we prepared to proceed with Type Three Stealth Assault?" With a cautionary tone, the Secondary Assessor reports, "we are prepared, Primary Assessor. But, Primary Assessor…I recommend a Type Nine caution." His name is Devros. The Primary Assessor slightly nods. He's submitting a inquiry to the Hierachy…to a screen strip of very dark lights of blue and orange. On one of the Secondary Assessor's screens, Voyager's current shield modulation of 267.8 is right there in plain sight: Volunteered by Gar…by way of a sensors reading transmitted from the Ramuran ship itself. And on a second screen…is a sensors readout of Voyager and its shields.

Back on Voyager… Seven has already attuned the sensors to detect the Hierarchy species: Picking up three mostly very dark brown spyglass modeled Assault class vessels with bat like wings, with yellowish orange warp coiled wingtips. Captain Janeway suggests, "and what would they want with us?" Warily, Chakotay starts to point out, "I think we're about to find out." Tuvok reports, "they're charging weapons." Captain Janeway orders, "sigh. Shields up. Red alert. We don't time for this. Tom…" Then, Devros's Assault Class ship fires: Straight into Deck Twelve.

Sparks go flying. Some fires start up…but are easily put out by the fire suppression system.

Harry Kim reports, "navigational control is offline! Minimum…casualties." A spark goes off from the Helm, into Tom Paris. He starts to burn all over, screaming in scorching pain on the floor. With teary eyes, Captain Janeway looks as if the Earth is coming to a standstill. A tear goes down her face. Teary eyed himself, Harry Kim shouts, "Tom!" He's about to pick up the only silver canister cased fire extinguisher on the Bridge. But, Chakotay mostly assures most of everyone, "don't worry, Harry. I've got this." Harry Kim slightly nod shakily, "yes, sir." Chakotay sprays the fire extinguisher over Tom Paris, putting out the flames.

Harry Kim is slowly getting back to his station…with the full realization that Tom Paris might come out of this alright.

No other shots are firing from the Assault class ships. Tom Paris is coughing violently, on his burned side. Over communications, Captain Janeway sniffles, "Transporter room…we have a medical emergency. Beam Tom Paris directly to Sick Bay." Soon enough, Tom Paris is transported to Sick Bay. Captain Janeway has gotten up, going over to Tactical. She murmurs coldly, "why haven't you fired? Why?!" A little taken aback, Tuvok tries not to show it, "nor have they. I do not understand it myself. But, I suspect…" Harry Kim reports, "Captain…we're being hailed."

Captain Janeway orders, "onscreen." The viewscreen cuts to the Bridge of Devros's Assault class ship. The Primary Assessor issues, "surrender your vessel's technology to us…or be destroyed."

Captain Janeway mutters, "we'd rather die than let…" Not believing what he's hearing, Chakotay faces her, "Captain! Heavy sigh. Can you give us a minute?" The Secondary Assessor coldly reasons, "I don't think our Primary Assessor would agree to that…Commander." Chakotay sighs, "fine. With all due respect…Captain…I don't like it either. But if we're going to stand a chance of getting home…I think we should surrender." The Primary Assessor urges impatiently, "well?!"

Seven adds, "Commander… There are "fates" worse than death. But… Sniffle. We really do not have much of a choice in the matter." Taking out a phaser, a very much shaken Captain Janeway mutters, "bullshit! We always have a…" But, Tuvok stuns her before she can aim it at anyone. Chakotay sighs heavily, "that settles it then. Harry…signal our surrender to The Hierachy vessels." Harry Kim nervously says, "yes, sir."

From Captain Janeway's Quarters…

Deep sigh. I may not like the Kobayashi Maru, bu... Hell! Slight uneasy chuckle. I can't say I met anyone in Starfleet Academy that has. The closest thing to that was Tuvok. We met long after I graduated from the Academy. Heavy sigh. My point is…I let my fear get the better of me. That's what the Kobayashi Maru was designed to do: Help us recognize that fear within us. That fear…of facing death.

On several noteworthy missions…in the past year alone… Slight uneasy chuckle. We've had plenty of allies. Species 8473, Kes… Even a Mirror Universe Chakotay…who was in truth more soldier than man. Heavy sigh. Though, needless to say…it's understandable: What the Mirror Universe Maquis should never have had to face. For that matter…no one should had to face war. And yet, for years…that's what this crew has had to pull together to overcome. A ongoing struggle with the Delta Quadrant: With one ship, one crew…and one family.

But then… Then there came the question of when we'd get home. It was no longer a question of if we get home: But, when. Slight uneasy chuckle. And I… Sniffle. I thought we had finally won the struggle: That no matter what happened…we'd get back home in one piece. Heavy sigh. That is…for what's left of us. And then, before I knew it…we were losing Voyager. Sniffle. But thankfully…for all of us… Slight bittersweet chuckle. It didn't stop there.

In Captain Janeway's eyes…

It's been two days. A dark gray metal moon like and moon sized Shelter class colony ship for The Hierarchy is departing from the nebulae: Using its giant deflector shields as its own polarization cloak.

And on the topmost deck… Detainee Cells are lined up by the hundreds, with only very dark brown sinks and benches. Captain Janeway, Chakotay, and the rest of Voyager's main compliment fill up half the deck's cells: Struggling not to pass out every minute. The cells are so smelly and dirty…that it looks like alien mud pies grew old and died in them.

Though disturbingly, the whole colony ship looks very much like that. The Hierarchy Species have children, teenagers, and adults housed in Shelter class ships: Their mobile homes. And in one form or another…they're all messy. Most of the space garbage gets compacted into internal ship parts and washed in sinks to install for later. But, the messes never go away: Just rot away and grow mold over the corners. The walls are drenched in mud like paste. Yet, the Hierarchy species breathe just fine.

Though, the deck sized Bridge at the center is a exception: Miraculously just dirty in contrast, with undersea periscope styled coral blue touch screens all across the walls.

Between slow breaths, Chakotay sighs, "I'm…sorry. But, you…" Between slow breaths, Captain Janeway insists, "no: I… It's…good…you stopped me." Understandingly, Chakotay slightly nods, "you're…welcome. But, we're…getting…out: Somehow."

With meditative breaths, B'Elanna mutters under her breath, "if…we live…that long. Dear…god…both stomachs…not happy!" She turns away, throwing up on her cell's floor. Chakotay comments, "true." Between slow breaths, a mostly recovering Tom Paris slightly chuckles, "I'll…take…that bet. You ok…B'Elanna?" A drained B'Elanna utters, "ask me…again after…twelve hours…with a…sonic shower."

Then, the Ramuran ship comes about: Firing its proton particle beams into a weak spot in their shield emitters. The deflector shields go out in one shot. Mariah slightly chuckles, "for such a well-fortified colony ship…you'd think they'd have better shields."

The Shelter Class Bridge's officers are going in a panic: Like their shields never overloaded before. They're trying desperately and failing to get their shields back up. Over communications, the Tertiary Assessor calls out, "people of The Hierarchy…your attention is required! Umm…our shields are down. But if you'll follow procedure and head down to the Emergency Shelter Level…I'm sure panic will be optional." He turns to the Primary Assessor, "can I panic now?" The Primary Assessor mutters, "get a grip on yourself! We follow procedure…and we get through this. Now, who's…? Gahh!" Practically, no one on the Bridge is listening: Running around and screaming…like nothing else matters but the screaming.

Meanwhile, with Beta Squad… Xana comments, "I think the smell has that already going for them. Slight uneasy chuckle. And not even a good old starry party smell." At the Helm, Gryzil slightly chuckles, "o…k. That's a thing?" Mariah sighs into her hands, "goddamnit, Xana! Please…don't. Just don't. Before I really get one of your "pictures"." She, Kellin, and Ayala are getting into environmental suits. Xana slightly sighs, "sorry. Good luck." Mariah slightly smiles, "it's not that big a deal. But…thanks." Xana beams Mariah, Kellin, and Ayala to the Detainee Cells.

With phaser fire blazing, they stun all the nearest guards of The Hierarchy. With a slight sigh, Kellin highlights, "wow. I almost feel sorry for them." Mariah comments, "I don't." She jump kicks down a guard in the stomach, making her kneel over in nausea. Captain Janeway and company are just gathering their breaths…when they suddenly realize who came to save them. Kellin side punches out two of them with one swing.

Ayala stuns several more guards in one volley. He reports, "well…they're not getting up anytime soon." Captain Janeway adds, "thank…you." Mariah warns lowly, "don't talk. Save your energy." Chakotay slightly chuckles, "I…almost…thought you…" Kellin mostly assures, "I know, Chakotay. You don't have to say anything." Over her environmental suit's communications, Mariah reports, "Xana…prepare to beam us back to Voyager." Xana figures, "acknowledged. Though, it shouldn't be a problem." Kellin figures casually, "umm…anytime soon would be good." Xana slightly chuckles, "sounds good. Energizing."

Voyager's crew beams over to Voyager: In the Shelter Class ship's docking deck. Aside from a few disassembled components scattered over Voyager's decks…Voyager itself seems to be in one piece. There's also a few unattended carts of The Hierarchy's mostly dark brown equipment.

The very much over sweaty crew is heavily breathing, taking in the fresh air into their systems. Tom Paris lies on the floor, gazing up at the ceiling: Like it's been years since he last saw civilization. He's taking it all in, "ahh…air. Good old…environmental air." Chakotay and Harry Kim chuckle to themselves, almost collapsing from exhaustion themselves. Captain Janeway slightly smiles thankfully, "it's good…to be back." Despite her aching legs and exhaustion, she sits down in the Captain's chair.

Seven effortlessly walks to her station…though she finds herself sneezing a lot. Blowing her nose, she mutters, "speak for yourself. Achoo! Permission to go to Sick Bay?" Captain Janeway solemnly nods, "permission granted. Tom, can you…? He's passed out, hasn't he?" Seven confirms, "yes, Captain. Achoo!" She heads for the turbolift. Harry Kim pretty much has passed out. Chakotay pulls himself together…to the Helm. He mostly assures the Captain, "permission to head out, Captain?"

Captain Janeway slightly chuckles, "sounds good. Set a course for the Dinaali homeworld. Warp seven." Chakotay checks, "warp seven?" Captain Janeway points out, "do we really look like we're in better shape to rescue the Doctor…Commander?" Chakotay sighs heavily, "right. Course set." With a sense of relief, Captain Janeway orders, "Ayala, clear a way out of here. Commander…engage." Voyager blasts its way out of The Hierachy Shelter class ship. Seconds later, Voyager goes into warp: Past a setting star.

From Captain Janeway's Quarters…

We were all glad to be breathing again. Slight chuckle. But once we were…we stumbled upon a astounding coincidence.

The Hierarchy equipment left onboard had more than enough components to modify our shields: For a very potent polarization field. Slight sigh. Even though it shorted out Voyager's shields…it was just long enough to beam in the EMH Doctor, and be long gone before the Dinaali. Given the direness of our situations…that was a small price to pay: For the time being. Of course, replacing the shielding was our next priority. That much was certain. Slight sigh. But, I was fairly confident Beta Squad could help with that.

Deep sigh. The closer we get to home…the harder it is for us all to let go: Of our home, on Voyager. But, for the Alpha Quadrant… Slight bittersweet chuckle. I'm sure that'd be a small price to pay. End log.


	14. Over to S7: Good Shepherd

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

Good Shepherd:

On the USS Voyager, from Mister Harren's Quarters…

Sigh! I swore I'd never use something so trivial as a "Personal Log", for submitting a hypothesis from myself to myself. I always trusted the genetic coding of my nucleic acid sequences. I could always understand myself, when no one else ever could. Slight nervous sigh.

Though, before this mission…there was no circumstance I could theorize where I have been proven wrong. This is my present theory for understanding myself:

My twenty second chromosome is suffering from a chromosomal instability, caused by a gene deficit of several Uracil and Adenine base pairings. The deficit of Uracil and Adenine present is a product of "my assimilatingly callous neurological state". According to Seven of Nine's own words, that is.

In Mister Harren's eyes…

The Stardate is 54653.77. In a turbolift, a fairly nervous Captain Janeway says, "Deck Fifteen." She thinks to herself, "I've been on away missions over the Cardassian border that were less stressful…than who I'm about to face." The turbolift starts its descent…towards the same deck that Mister Harren is stationed on.

Captain Janeway is thinking back, to not so long ago:

In Cargo Bay 2, Seven is scanning scattered debris with a tricorder: Found by Beta Squad a few hours ago. The debris is of wide light mostly gray yellow striped wing pieces and red rimmed thrusters. Captain Janeway has just recently come in, facing Seven across from it. She addresses the matter, "report." Seven moderately sighs, "do you desire to hear the bad part first…or the good part?"

Captain Janeway concludes, "let's hear the bad news." Uneasily, Seven highlights, "it's…of Vaadwaur design. However, they had obsolete technology. It's very likely that their assault fighters's thrusters burned themselves out." Captain Janeway sighs deeply, "except for one thing: Kes knows something is wrong…and we could very well be looking right at it."

Seven concludes harshly, "no doubt we already have: Ensign Mortimer Harren, for one." Captain Janeway is coming around the debris, staring in hurt amazement. She mutters, "with all due respect, Seven…you're out of line." Seven speculates nervously, "perhaps. And, perhaps it is relevant. So…please let me finish." Sniffling a bit, Captain Janeway reluctantly decides, "go ahead." A little teary eyed, Seven solemnly nods, "thank you. Ensign Tal Celes, Ensign William Telfer, and Ensign Mortimer Harren…all have notable records for incompetency and zero away team experience. Yet, you are illogically selecting them for this mission: Especially with no prior training."

Turning to the side, Captain Janeway considers, "moderate sigh. Chakotay gave me the exact same argument. And, normally…sniffle…I'd agree. I don't particularly like it either. But, whatever is out there… Kes thinks our subatomic…"whatevers"…have a higher chance for our survival this way: With herself, and those same Ensigns on the Delta Flyer. And, Kes has never been wrong before. Besides…I'm not planning on the Delta Flyer being the only ship out there. Beta Squad will accompany us into the cluster. I…trust that would be efficient enough for you?"

Reflectively, Seven slightly sighs, "most likely. But…I hope I wasn't too out of line." Captain Janeway slightly chuckles, "with you, Seven…no more so than usual. I'll live." And with that, she leaves a slightly puzzled Seven to her thoughts.

Back around, to the relative present:

In thought, Captain Janeway reflects solemnly, "I just hope it doesn't come to phaser fire: For this "good shepherd"." She sighs to herself, "computer, halt turbolift." The turbolift stops. Captain Janeway takes a minute to focus, on keeping hope alive from within. She leans against the turbolift walling. Then, she lets the turbolift continue on to Deck 15…just one deck away. Captain Janeway continues on, leaving the turbolift and heading down a mostly jet black corridor.

She gets to Junction Room 16…where she finds Mister Harren. Silvery pipes for warp drive plasma and the like are everywhere. The jet black gives way to dark gray walls. The fair black frontless haired Mister Harren is at a double wide station: With two bio-neural gel access panels, and mostly purple and yellow lined console screens. Captain Janeway addresses, "Crewman Harren." Mister Harren looks up from his station, with a certain smugness to him. It reminded Captain Janeway of the Q, much to her great discomfort.

Mister Harren inquires, "Captain Janeway…are you lost?" He's a little uneasy…though he doesn't let it show by much. A little relieved, Captain Janeway takes a hand off her phaser. She concludes, "I was…for a minute. What about you?" Mister Harren slightly laughs, "you don't know me at all." Captain Janeway sighs hard, "no…but I would like to. I'll be briefing you this afternoon…if this mission has your interest." She hands Mister Harren a PADD. He figures, "because you feel responsible for having three "intellectual deficits" aboard your ship?" Captain Janeway voices, "no one is retarded on this ship, Mister Harren. If you don't want the away mission, fine! That's your decision. But, don't take it out on us."

Mister Harren remarks sharply, "Voyager has its own "small" wars, Captain. Or haven't you noticed? The Maquis crewmembers, Bierit, and Seska are the prime examples. It's just a question of what Stardate." Captain Janeway sighs deeply, "we don't go looking for a fight, Mister Harren. Not anymore. But…don't tempt me." Mister Harren creepily acknowledges, "Captain, I have no intention of being a part of your delusions: Of your "small" wars. Slight laugh. It's why I prefer not to leave my post: No "small" wars. The plasma conduits here are too technologically sensitive to this ship's operations to be damaged."

Captain Janeway voices coldly to him, "then let's keep it that way." She is about to leave him be. But then…Captain Janeway thinks of something. Turning back, she comments, "all right, Mister Harren: Sigh. No "delusions", no "small" wars. Just the facts." Almost impressed, Mister Harren reasons, "all right. But, don't expect me to change my "intellectually deficit" neurotransmitters." Captain Janeway breaks it down, "at least that's something. I'm taking the Delta Flyer on an astronomical survey mission, and your expertise would be greatly appreciated."

With immense doubt, Mister Harren challenges, "and just what do you know about my expertise?" Captain Janeway says, "as much as Kes and I need to." Mister Harren voices, "well, then you might be interested to know that I'm about to disprove Schlezholt's theory of multiple big bangs." Not sure whether to feel sorry for him or not, Captain Janeway concludes, "indeed? Slight chuckle. Wang's second postulate has more lives than a cat, doesn't it? Once you think you've eliminated it…it pops up again. But, I think Kes is more than qualified to give you a hand: On the condition that you go on the away mission."

Mister Harren considers out loud, "even if Kes was willing…how could she?" Captain Janeway pinpoints, "because she was there." Mister Harren slightly sighs, "I'm not saying I'm changing my neurotransmitters. But…I will give some thought to recalibrating them." Almost impressed herself, Captain Janeway figures, "you do that. But…don't take too long." She leaves Mister Harren to his thoughts.

From Mister Harren's Quarters…

Even from the start of my first day on Voyager…I knew exploration would be far from dignified for my existence. Perhaps I should have turned back then and there. Then, I wouldn't be stuck with a crew complement mostly made up of delusional humans. Sigh!

I have simply just not cared for people that actively avoid the truth of their existence: Of being a product of their genetic coding, and choosing to do away with their own initial theories. Particularly deluded humans, who could never hope to understand their purest existence. This leaves myself a victim of having to practically endure myself against everyone else!

Sure, there were theoretically quite a few exceptions in the Delta Quadrant: The Kazon, the Trabe, Kes, Suspiria's evolved Ocampan colony… Slight laugh. But, with Voyager's crew making enemies out of evolved beings like myself…that theory has died before it could even start. The only possible exception was Kes. Though, she never understood genetic purity…or me. Slight laugh. That was a real pity.

On the other hand…just because I do not care for the devolved does not mean I want to kill them for it. My callousness may very well just be a product from being a victim of circumstance, and nothing more.

And the best evidence to support this part of my theory? I can theorize about many examples of crewmembers that have fallen victim to the circumstance of being stranded in the Delta Quadrant: Because Voyager's entire crew became stranded, along with myself. Sigh. But, the prime example of all that I can theorize about is a circumstance…where Captain Janeway's pure self was on the peak of evolving. When Captain Janeway was intent on hunting down Captain Ransom's crew…she surprised me.

Sure, I had a respect for Captain Ransom: But, only when he evolved from his delusion that he "had no choice".

I mean, for crying out loud… Just…what…in the human genome…was even the hell?! Even if he was to die for a choice he initially wanted to make…it would be at his highest capacity of genetic purity. Why did it take years for Captain Ransom to get there? Sigh! Aside from that…

From the start…I was already finding myself respecting Captain Janeway's intent. At least she was at her highest capacity of genetic purity from the start. I even came very close to respecting her pure existence as well: Which is more than I can say for most of the crew's complement. Slight laugh. But, when she stopped herself from evolving into her pure self...I could not respect her. Even now, I might still not be able to bring myself to respect her. Slight sigh.

In Mister Harren's eyes…

The Delta Flyer II circles around the near blinding light of the stellar nursery…alongside the cloaked Ramuran ship. Distortions of light shift past them. But, the near blinding light makes it almost impossible to spot or detect. At the back of the Delta Flyer II, Captain Janeway is having lunch: With the fidgety medium frontless black haired Mister Telfer, and the nervous tied back bun shaped black haired Bajoran Tal Celes. At the front, Mister Harren is at Sensors. And, Kes is at the Helm: In her dark red dress, from Stardate 51008.

She wonders, "you all right?" Mister Harren slightly laughs, "didn't think you cared to ask. How long has it been since you were first asked me anything: Six years?" Kes moderately sighs, "I care for every living thing, Mister Harren: Even for the spiritually "questionable", like yourself." Mister Harren criticizes, "you want to talk "questionable"? Slight laugh. All right. You're a existence of evolution itself…and you really believe that "spiritual delusions" of delusional humans are more important than genetically driven behavior patterns?"

A little amused, Kes highlights, "I'm kind of flattered you think so...but I'm also kind of not. I don't believe in the nature of that spiritual "questionability" of yours. But, call it what you will." Interestingly, Mister Harren suggests, "a initial theory, which I respectfully don't agree with." Kes reasons, "there may be hope for you yet: Respectively, of course. You shouldn't be anything less than yourself. But, now that I think about it…how does subatomic particles figure in your idea of "evolution"? For that matter, how does becoming a cosmologist?" Mister Harren figures, "I'm a product of my nucleic acids. I follow my nucleic acid sequences, and I've become the purest existence I can be. Anything below that are delusions: Nothing…relevant to my existence."

Kes points out, "you don't sound all that convinced." Mister Harren sighs sadly, "I signed on to Voyager, because I needed a year of hands on experience. It was a requirement for getting into the Institute of Cosmology on Orion One. If we hadn't gotten lost in the Delta quadrant…it would have been that simple to ignore the delusions." Kes considers out loud, "do you really believe it would be that easy? Or, is it part of your genetics trying to tell you something?" A little stunned, Mister Harren is speechless for a bit. He says, "maybe I will join my colleagues for lunch. All this theorizing has given me an appetite." Kes slightly smiles, silently to herself.

Around this time, on the Ramuran ship… Mariah comments to herself, "quiet: It's too goddamn quiet." Xana remarks, "well, someone forgot to take their hypospray for screwy downer." Gryzil slightly chuckles, "I'm not touching that one." Mariah presses, "Xana… Moderate sigh. Please. Don't start." Xana suggests, "I can get a hypospray, if…" Mariah urges, "no. Just…no." Xana slightly sighs, "just trying to help."

Roughly two hours later, with the Delta Flyer II… The Delta Flyer II is passing carefully around orbiting blue and red gas clouds of a very dark purple T-Class gas giant. It's the only gas in the stellar nursery: Drawn into itself by the sheer gravity of the forming stars, and vice versa. The debris of thirty triple deckered Vaadwaur assault fighters is being slowly crushed to atoms: Along with the sickly adrift bodies of forty Vaadwaur. Two of them have been brought onboard the back of the Delta Flyer II: Surrounded with shattered cockpit shards, and creepily without any color.

At the front of the Delta Flyer II, a shaken Captain Janeway concludes, "our scans of the bodies were inconclusive. But…we found displaced positrons that could indicate a dark matter impact. Thoughts?" With some difficulty, a shaken Tal Celes has already downloaded a scan onto the main computer. Mister Telfer guesses, "we're in a stellar nursery: It could have been caused by anything. Gravitational forces, shrapnel…"

Mister Harren mutters, "shrapnel? Really?! Slight sigh. There is only one theory that comes close to the state of their genetic structure: A dark matter proto-comet." Captain Janeway recalls, "I read a paper on that phenomenon once." Mister Harren points out, "written by me." Kes slightly chuckles, "easy, mister cosmologist. We… We have incoming!"

The Gravimetric Sensor Array is beeping every second now. Light distortions are rippling towards the Delta Flyer II: In one massive wave. Captain Janeway urges, "Kes, can you…?" The Ramuran ship is hit by the wave. Its engines are being pierced through, like a avalanche coming down on a glass window. Kes concentrates on the subatomic particles around her: Creating a subspace corridor to slow time around the Delta Flyer II. Kes takes her hands off the Helm: Letting the momentum of the subspace corridor keep it steady. She slightly sighs, "we have twenty minutes: But, that's all I can give you."

Captain Janeway slightly chuckles, "it'll do. Well, Mister Harren…please continue." Mister Harren summarizes, "all right. I hypothesized that a tertiary product of stellar consolidation would be a comet-like assemblage of dark matter. It would be attracted to any source of antimatter and neutralize it upon contact." Finding it very hard to catch up with everything around her, Tal Celes guesses, "so one of these things detected the antimatter in our warp core?"

Mister Harren sighs, "right now…I don't have enough evidence to hypothesize if it is a astrophysical phenomenon. Or, if it isn't. The Vaadwaur used rockets…and not antimatter. But, it can only be a mindless astrophysical phenomenon: Nothing more. We should eject our warp core, or we could lose our entire hull: Along with Beta Squad's lives."

Mister Telfer argues nervously, "or, we could all die." Tal Celes slightly chuckles nervously, "come on, Billy: None of us are going to die. Right?" Mister Harren sighs to himself, very annoyedly so. Desperate for a way out at this point, Captain Janeway is pacing up and down. She sighs deeply, "Kes? Is it possible to save everyone with this…hypothesis?" Kes reasons, "yes. But… Moderate sigh. There's only a fifty five percent chance that it is what we think it is." Captain Janeway says, "I'll take it."

She orders, "Tal, take the Helm. Prepare to get us out of here: Full thrusters. And set a course for Voyager: They're bound to be within range. Mister Telfer...get a lock on Beta Squad: Beam them here if you have to. Mister Harren: Inform us as soon as the dark matter phenomenon is almost on top of us. At that second, I'll jettison the warp core." Everyone agrees: Surprisingly so. The Delta Flyer II comes out of the subspace corridor…and time itself resumes course. Over communications, Xana calls out, "Xana to Delta Flyer: Main…!" The comlink goes out…as the Ramuran ship shatters.

The bodies of Beta Squad are beamed out: Not a moment too soon. They've passed out from a few seconds of exposure to space…but are barely breathing. Mister Telfer reports, "vital signs…are normal. Slight nervous gulp. For now." Captain Janeway slightly chuckles, "I can see that." Mister Harren reports, "the dark matter phenomenon…is…"

Suddenly, the distortion wave changes form…to the colorless shapes of Vaadwaur assault fighters. Bizarrely and disturbingly, telepathic echoes pound in the heads of Captain Janeway's Delta Flyer crew. Flashes of Vaadwaur military leader Gaul echo, "you have no idea how long we've waited for your deaths…in this "dark matter". How "kind" for you…to make it so quick for us to carry out your executions." Flashes of his second in command Morin echoes, "give B'Elanna my regret." Captain Janeway struggles back to her feet. But, it's too late to eject the warp core. The Delta Flyer II is being torn apart by swirling dark matter waves: Cutting in like drills. Sparks fly, lighting the inside out from inside out.

Having no earlier sense of the Vaadwaur herself, Kes is caught off guard by their violent thoughts: Struggling to fight them. Kes catches flashes of very faint shadows in darkness...and herself among them. As if she was a shadow herself. They're all being harvested by the Vaadwaur's thoughts: In the form of glowing particle beam cattle prods. They're becoming dark matter vessels for Gaul's battalion's violent thoughts. A teary eyed Kes breathes hard, struggling to fight the mental image.

Captain Janeway is passing out: Coughing violently from the smoke and turbulence. Everyone else besides Kes is burning alive, screaming. Kes finally breaks away from her nightmare. She cries out, "no!" She creates a bluish green portal over everyone…as the Delta Flyer II explodes.

From Mister Harren's Quarters…

Though, for the exact same reason…I am not clinically insane. I have simply just not cared for people that actively avoid the truth of their existence: Of being a product of their genetic coding, and choosing to do away with their own initial theories.

Even I had my doubts about my own initial theories. But, I never did away with any of them. Though, I obviously didn't choose to follow through with one: The theory that exploration would be far from dignified for my existence. Sigh! Or, I would have turned back from Voyager from the start and I wouldn't be stuck with a crew complement mostly made up of delusional humans.

Though, that does brings up a genetic impurity in itself: I signed onto Voyager for a year of field experience, simply because of requirements to go to the Institute of Cosmology on Orion I. Even if I was to come back from Voyager on Stardate 49315…my "fellow colleagues" at the Institute of Cosmology would have base pairings consisting of even more delusional humans. More delusional humans that I would have to endure myself against! Sigh! What evidence can even come close to explaining that genetic impurity?! Answer! Sniffle. Need a answer. Ohh…yes.

Stardate 21343. On Stardate 21343, the only thing I used to be pure at in elementary school was science. Everything else was "F" for "Fatally Impure"! Sigh. My parents were so ashamed of my impurity…that I learned directly from their example. "Homeschooling"…as delusional humans would term it. It has interestingly been a product of slightly less delusional humans…determined by most delusional humans to be delusional. Slight chuckle. Though, I learned the hard way that no delusional human could ever hope to understand existence as I do.

I left my parents to study with a retired science professor with German genetics. Her name was Mandl Wilhelm. She wasn't very accomplished. But, she was a descendent of Fredrich Wilhelm Nietzche that believed in his teachings. And, that was more than a pure enough example for myself to learn from. So, I never truly had the experience of being stuck with much "fellow colleagues"…until I came onboard Voyager. How could I possibly have the capacity to know that experience…until I was on Voyager? The answer is simply…I could not. Though, that does explain the nucleic acid sequences of my thirteen chromosome: I just could only see my nucleic acids in front of me, from learning under Mandl Wilhelm's example.

I can't believe I'm saying this to myself… Sigh. But, I might have been wrong to learn only from the example of one pure existence: To help evolve to my own pure existence. Though, shouldn't one pure existence be enough of a example…from which I could evolve myself to genetic purity?

In Mister Harren's eyes…

Kes, Captain Janeway, and the rest of Captain Janeway's Delta Flyer crew appears: In the dark matter lifeforms's unidentified dimension of space-time. With everyone having become shadows themselves…they're miraculously all alive. Kes sighs heavily in relief, over herself. She gets up, facing Captain Janeway, "did it work?"

Captain Janeway confirms, "seems like. The burning though…I could live without." Mister Harren mutters lowly to himself, "but…this is impossible. Molecules this complex would collapse under their own weight. Nothing could live in dark matter! But, I…was dead wrong." Captain Janeway reasons, "then maybe it's time you revived your theory." Mister Telfer looks around, "we're…not dead?" Kes mostly assures, "yes…and no. But, don't be frightened: We'll find a way." Mister Telfer slightly smiles back. Then, several shadows approach. Cautiously, their unified thoughts telepathically check, "you…our enemy? You…not…us." Captain Janeway sighs deeply, "we…not your enemy. The Vaadwaur…"

Still quite shaken, Kes somberly finishes the sentence, "the Vaadwaur subjugated you. They died trying…with their particle beams. But, you didn't realize how powerful they were. You thought they were dead. But, you were vulnerable to their thoughts. And before you sensed them…they subjugated you. Is that right?" The dark matter lifeforms voice, "yes…you…already sensed…it. We…are…only…resistance…left. But…you…have…plan?" Kes slightly chuckles, "yeah. I think we do."

Not long after, relatively… Together, all of them fly charge for the Vaadwaur's battalion. In the dark. Captain Janeway mutters, "maybe you should've stayed in your stasis pods." She punches Gaul deeper into the dark. A awake Kellin remarks, "no doubt this is how B'Elanna would regard you." She punches Morin down hard: Making him cough dark red liquid on his side. In a very short relative time…Gaul's battalion is merely shadow. They're all knocked out, by a awakened Beta Squad: Thanks to Mister Telfer, Tal Celes, and the several dark matter shadows that stayed on the sidelines. The dark matter shadow people telepathically cheer among themselves. Their space-time is theirs again.

Helping revive Captain Janeway's Delta Flyer crew and Beta Squad…was the very first thing on their minds: As a token of gratitude.

From Mister Harren's Quarters…

Sigh. I may have a genetic instability in my twenty second chromosome. I may not have the necessary base pairings to be very respectful. Maybe the genetic impurity of "spirit"…isn't impurity. Maybe the questionability of a "Omega" particle…isn't entirely questionable. All I can do is theorize…and hope to purify my existence. Maybe I could even help purify other like minded existences, towards their own theories. Computer…conclude log.


	15. Season 7: Human Error

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

Human Error:

On the USS voyager, from Icheb's Borg Alcove…

Personal log…Stardate 54686.39. I never felt this embarrassed…or vulnerable. Moderate sigh. I never felt strong emotions before. But…that is not the emotional conflict. Sniffle. Seven thought I could be ready for a Agony Stimulator of my own: Provided I prepare myself with appropriate holographic parameters, and a Agony Stimulator program. I…have failed her. There is no question: Only…failure? No. That does not explain my embarrassment…or vulnerability. Moderate sigh! Which one?

In order to be sure, I…need to remember more details of what happened. My social fears are irrelevant. Moderate sigh. Here I go.

In Icheb's eyes…

The Stardate is 59742.46: Five years into Icheb's future. A ice planet's shattered shards float about…a few parsecs away from the Alpha Quadrant. Voyager's crew got home in three years. It's been two years since the homecoming. And, it's just been one tragedy after another.

With no Voyager to protect it in time, the Borg took over the Delta Quadrant: Including the Ocampan people. With their suppressed non-corporeal powers tapped into by the Borg Collective…they're the most deadly Borg drones imaginable in the galaxy. The Vulcan homeworld was the first to be shattered in dark green telepathic energy: Six billion assimilated, in a mere six minutes. Ten starship crews…all dead. The Federation was getting desperate. They allied with Unimatrix Zero…despite their prejudice for any kind of Borg drone. The tragedies kept coming. But, a final hope remains. And Voyager is in the thick of it.

The USS Voyager passes over the ice planet: Covered in Borg like fiery red lights and crystal silver like electrodynamic fluid conduits.

The access panels have electrodynamic fluid conduits running through them. The screens are dark red, with Borg like screens. Icheb, as a young adult, is the Chief Engineer. He wears a mostly jet black and bright yellow shouldered Starfleet uniform. From across the electrodynamic fluid enhanced warp core, Joe Carey faces him. He has a little gray in his hair.

Joe Carey addresses coldly, "Holo-Quarters matrix online?" Icheb slightly sighs, "you asked that precise question twenty times this morning. If it wasn't, I'd report it." Joe Carey mutters lowly, "all right. You made your point! I…will get back to my duties." With a hint of contempt, Icheb urges, "you do that….Lieutenant."

Several starships are following behind Voyager, resembling the USS Prometheus. The USS Prometheus was lost to the Dominion war. But, they're really modeled after the USS Voyager: Equipped all over with Borg-Federation bright blue pulse beam cannons, and lit with Borg like fiery red lights. Their inside circuitry and screens are mostly Borg. But, they otherwise look very much like the USS Prometheus. They're Matrix class starships. Most of them have Unimatrix Zero civilians as individual former Borg crewmembers. And, so does the USS Voyager. But, most every Starfleet officer hates even looking at them.

On Voyager's Bridge, Seven is the Captain: With a dark red shouldered Starfleet uniform, and a scar all over the side of her left arm. A Silver Blood duplicate of Tom Paris is at the Helm, sweating a little Silver Blood from the temperature. A Silver Blood duplicate of Kellin is in the Commander's chair: Looking like she could melt, from the Silver Blood constantly appearing around her teary eyes. The Bridge itself is modeled after the Astrometrics lab: With the viewscreen to match. At sensors, a random Unimatrix Zero civilian reports, "we have visual, Captain."

With a hardened tone, Captain Seven orders, "onscreen." The viewscreen cuts to the image of a telepathically weakened Tanis. He's lying on a metal stretcher, as a fluctuating cosmic dark purple man. He's carried by several Ocampans from Suspiria's colony: Sent by Suspiria herself to lend a helping hand to the Federation. At a pained whisper, a teary Tanis says, "reporting…violent cough…as you said. Drone. Don't all you "drones" get it now?! Violent cough!" He's slowly telepathically healing himself, but only the coughing seems to be fading. Tanis mutters harshly, "We're getting killed out here. Now either Admiral Janeway comes through…or this isn't worth our lives."

Captain Seven turns to the side, "I assume you have already calculated this…Kes?" Kes has indeed appeared next to her, out of nowhere. There's a very solemn darkness in her eyes. And, she wears her dark purple Starfleet uniform: From eight or so years ago. Kes states, "yes: Heavy sigh. Unfortunately. If this doesn't work, Tanis…the grim truth is that we'd be dead: With or without your "sacred" Exotia. Now, please: Let's just get this over with." Tanis comments, "and we…never see each other again? Good enough." Captain Seven mutters coldly, "close channel." The viewscreen cuts out. The sensors officer confirms, "channel closed."

Captain Seven voices, "good." Kes concludes, "I wish it was that simple. I'll be in my Quarters." She makes a bluish green subspace corridor appear, disappearing from sight. Captain Seven says, "very well. "Tom", set a course for the Tarela system: Maximum Transwarp." The Silver Blood Tom Paris argues, "with all due respect…how will we stand a chance for very long? Huh?!" The Silver Blood Kellin sadly says, "I don't think it matters: We won't be safe for long anywhere."

Captain Seven slightly chuckles, "precisely." The Silver Blood Tom Paris mutters, "way to get us "excited." Setting course." Captain Seven says, "we'll be efficient. Sniffle. We got to be." Voyager goes into a Transwarp conduit, with the Matrix class starships following it in.

A few hours after… In Icheb's Quarters, Brunali genetic sequencer symbols with wooden colored rims are decorated on the corners. Though, there's no Brunali technology here to speak of. In a side room, there's a Astrometrics styled bright white Engineering control station. Such stations are available in all Senior officer Quarters, in case of a emergency. For this purpose, Astrometrics itself was disassembled and distributed accordingly.

Icheb looks out to the stars, from his silver sheeted bed.

He sighs to himself, thinking to the tragedies that befell his friends and beyond. The Delta Flyer, Deep Space Nine, Starfleet Academy… Destroyed. Tom Paris, B'Elanna, Species 8473, the Ramuran people… All dead, because of the Borg-Ocampa.

Not even turning his head, Icheb says, "you all right?" To the side, Kes slightly chuckles grimly, "it's been too long...since we asked each other that question. Are you?" She sits beside him. Icheb surmises, "I… I'm not sure, Kes. Slight chuckle. Probably first time in five years." With a hand on his, Kes figures warmly, "well…I'm sure we can figure it out together."

Icheb slightly turns to her, "thank you." Kes briefly kisses him. She wonders, "does that help?" Icheb slightly sighs, "I appreciate the gesture. But…I'm not so such I want to feel that good now." Kes reasons sympathetically, "I understand that. But… Moderate sigh. This may be the last time we get to feel good again. No doubt you know why."

Icheb reasons, "my pathogen…our only hope left. Moderate sigh. We either succeed, or we die trying." Flashes of the past fill his mind: Waking up from a Borg maturation chamber, growing to respect Voyager's crew more and more…and his people wiped out by the Borg-Ocampa.

Kes adds, "exactly. But, whatever happens…I'm here." Icheb solemnly nods, "no: I get it. But, the closer it gets to that day… Sniffle. It's hard…to think of much else." Kes reasons, "I know. But, for what it's worth… Slight chuckle. I can make time go a lot slower. I'm non-corporeal…remember?" Icheb slightly smiles, "that is true." Kes figures bittersweetly, "I'll take that to be a yes." They start making out, with their touching surrounded in a fluctuating bluish green glow.

From Icheb's Borg alcove…

At first…it seemed so real. So plausible. Perhaps this was all in the future, and I woke up to discover the past was just nightmares. Moderate sigh. By that contrast alone…the future looked more hopeful. There was still a Federation, and we were just days away from destroying the central world of the Borg. So long as we could preserve every one from the Borg… In finality, it was well worth the risk.

Besides…moderate sigh…I didn't add any of this to the holographic parameters. And certainly not Kes in such a "intriguing" way: To say the least. It never occurred to me that I could have a crush on Kes. She just seemed to be a really good colleague.

For my adolescence, no romantic feelings even came up for me. That is…aside from a certain "misunderstanding" with B'Elanna. Moderate sigh. But, looking back at it now… It's clear to me that she never had a desire for romantic involvement with me: That she just acted like she did, so that we could just move on from the confusion. If she actually had such a desire, it would have been much easier to tell: Like it was for me with Kes. Moderate sigh! Even though I realize now that was only a holographic Kes.

Prior to all of this, the Borg didn't even see me as much of a threat. So, I couldn't help but think: What else could it plausibly be, beside the future? But, the memories kept coming…in painfully perfect detail.

In Icheb's eyes…

The flashes are cycling on: Waking up from a Borg maturation chamber… Taking intensive studies to apply to Starfleet Academy with help from Seven and others on Voyager… And, of the holographic backups of Unimatrix Zero civilians that he saw in Holodecks 1-2.

But, for a few creepy seconds… Icheb sees himself as a young adult in Voyager's Astrometrics: Becoming a Borg again, crying out to the stars on the wide around screen. He punches the screen, fighting the urge to assimilate it. The screen shatters, his half Borgifying arm burning in scorching flames.

A extremely shaken Icheb comes to: On the main medical bed of Voyager's Sick Bay. He sits up, his vision blurred in dark green spots. He starts to inquire lowly, "what is…?!" Standing beside him, Kes voices softly, "don't be frightened, Icheb. You had a high case of post-neural shock from your cortical node. But, it's the only one this year. There may be some slight discoloration at first…" The dark green spots fade away from Icheb's vision: Much to his relief. Kes urges, "but, you're going to be all right. He is going to be all right… Isn't he, Doctor?"

In a delicate tone, the EMH Doctor moderately sighs, "most likely. But…I'm afraid this one is of a more serious nature." He's in a dark blue shouldered Starfleet uniform, standing at the main medical bed's monitor. Kes wonders in concern, "what are you talking about?" The EMH Doctor concludes, "see for yourself." Kes faces the monitor, seeing what appears to be a Transpectral analysis: Of a Borg translink frequency carrier wave, with densely curving brainwave patterns. Kes speculates, "the Borg are trying to accelerate the deterioration of his cortical node? But, why go to…?"

The EMH Doctor concludes grimly, "it's worse than that. But, it is treatable. The Borg are trying to realign its programming: To reconnect it to the Borg. With a few precise cortical treatments…I can block their signal. But, I'm afraid he'll have to stay in Sick Bay during the duration of the treatments. That is, if we're not dead in the water first." Kes reasons to Icheb, "and of course…if you agree."

Icheb reflects, "well… Moderate sigh. Thank you. I appreciate that." Kes adds warmly, "you're welcome." Icheb goes on, "you can call it illogical, Doctor. But…I have a feeling there's more to this than simply the Borg. Can't you sense it, Kes?" Kes uneasily says, "no…but I sense that you think I should. I find that hard to believe myself. But, please...tell us in your own words. Or at least, tell me." Icheb concludes uncertainly, "it's all right: It's not that private. There's a familiarity about it…somehow. It's hard to describe. But, I'm confident it'll show itself soon enough: Without cortical treatment." The EMH Doctor starts to protest, "as Voyager's Chief Medical officer, I'm afraid I can't just let you compromise your safety…!"

Icheb quickly explains, "I'm well aware of that, Doctor. That's why it'd be best to give me a cortical monitor. If anything goes wrong, you can beam me directly to Sick Bay. But…I don't think it'll come to that." The EMH Doctor concludes solemnly, "that's what they all said: B'Elanna, Harry Kim… Moderate sigh. Though, in the course of a few days…we could all be in the same boat. Very well." Icheb starts to get to his feet, "thank you, Doctor."

From Icheb's Borg alcove…

The diagnostic was that the malfunction was in my cortical node: Which was preserved by the Borg maturation chamber I was released from. As much as I hate to consider it…I suppose that was plausible in itself. Its function is to be the primary logic processing node of a Borg drone…which normally terminates fatally after being disconnected from the Borg Collective. I was a carrier for my parents's deadly pathogen: Which targeted Borg. But, the Borg maturation chambers preserved developing Borg: Like I once was. I wasn't an exception.

In Icheb's eyes, over the relative course of two days…

Voyager and the several Matrix class starships are coming out of Transwarp. They're on course for the Borg homeworld: With very dark blue mineral deposits, and a metropolitan styled grid of Borg corridors. It's fifty minutes out. The central complex is satellite dish shaped, with three huge Borg towers. Forty Borg Spheres are stationed overhead: With most of the Borg Cubes spread out thin across the stars, fighting what's left of the Federation. And just a star system away…very dark blue flashes of Nacene energy are fading in and out of space-time.

In Voyager's Main Engineering… Icheb is sitting at a side console, searching Voyager's computer banks. Over his shoulder, Joe Carey mutters harshly, "I heard about your "little" condition. So why don't you do us both a favor, and crawl back to Sick Bay like a good "drone"?" Kes remarks coldly, "shouldn't you be at your station, like a good "drone"?" She has just appeared there: With a bluish green telepathic glow in her glaring look.

Joe Carey backs off. He mutters under his breath, "non-corporeal bitch. What am I even doing on this ship, with…?!" Joe Carey rants on and on, out of earshot. Very much shaken, Icheb sighs deeply. He slightly turns to Kes, "thank you." Kes slightly smiles, "don't mention it. But…may I ask what you're up to?"

Still sounding shaken, Icheb explains, "I've been going over my log entries, Starfleet records… Anything that could better explain what's going on with me." Sensing something off, Kes asks, "what's wrong, Icheb?" Over the side console, Icheb takes a deep breath, "I'm afraid it's not that simple to tell. But…I want to. You promise not to tell anyone?" Without hesitation, Kes answers, "sure. I promise." Fairly assured, Icheb adds, "thanks." Kes reasons, "no…problem. What am I looking at?" The jet black console screen is on…but there's just yellow lines.

Icheb pinpoints, "that's precisely what I'd like to know. There should be logs, sensor readings… Moderate sigh! But, it's all blank. I even ran a intensive scan on Voyager's systems to be sure. No sign of tampering."

A concerned Kes considers, "no offense, Icheb. But, if the safety of our crew is at stake… Moderate sigh. Shouldn't we at least tell Seven about your findings?" Icheb reflects, "I…wish it was that simple, Kes. But, something is very wrong here. And until I find out for sure who else I can trust…I'd appreciate it if you don't tell anyone."

With a warm hand on his, Kes slightly sighs, "I love you and all. But, please…don't worry: I'd never do that to you." Slightly relieved, Icheb concludes, "I know. But…it helps." Kes slightly chuckles, "you're welcome. I'm merely a second away, if you need me." She disappears into a bluish green portal under her feet: To Icheb's slight amusement.

Outside the central complex… Captain Janeway is a leading Admiral: For Tanis's Ocampans, and a army of Unimatrix Zero civilians. She looks tired, but presses on. Then, several Borg drones come around the corner. But, the Unimatrix Zero civilians come from the side: Punching them down, and snapping their necks. The Borg drones fall to the floor, the color fading from their dead faces.

Admiral Janeway fires a jet black phaser rifle at one Borg drone, taking it out. She orders, "Go! I'm right behind you." She and the Unimatrix Zero army planted spatial charges along the Borg corridors...masked as Borg nodes. And with the press of a detonator in Captain Janeway's hand…they go off. The central complex's frontal Borg tower is caving in on itself…in a great big engulfing flame.

Hundreds of Borg drones burn away instantly. The Ocampans quickly open subspace corridors, directly into the central complex: Clearing the way to safety. Some of them though aren't quick enough…screaming in the flames. A teary eyed Admiral Janeway runs into one of the fading subspace corridors, just before the flames reach her.

On Voyager's Bridge… A Starfleet Klingon officer at Tactical voices, "today…is a good day to die." Captain Seven slightly smiles, "yes: Slight chuckle. It certainly is."

From Icheb's Borg alcove…

Though…there is obviously more to this story.

In Icheb's eyes…

The flashes are cycling on: Of the holographic backups of Unimatrix Zero civilians… Of taking duty shift rotations in Astrometrics and Main Engineering… And, of his people wiped out by the Borg-Ocampa. But, for a few creepy seconds… The memory cuts into static.

And, as the static fades… Icheb sees his comatose body in Holodeck 1: on a medical bed, with a giant dark gold tricorder on the ceiling. And standing over his comatose body…is Seven. He can slightly hear the worried state in her distorted voice, "Icheb? Can…you…hear…? Remain cal… Please: Try to… Sniffle. Icheb…wake…u…p…" More static.

Around this time… Voyager and the Matrix class starships are engaging the Borg: Firing Borg-Federation bright blue pulse beam cannons into the stationed Borg fleet. The Borg fire cutting beams into the Matrix class starships…but their hulls are regenerating at eighty percent efficiency. Fourteen Several Borg Spheres are left vulnerable, temporarily losing connection with the Borg Collective. Specifically, because of the fallen central complex on the surface. They're remodulating their transceiver frequencies, but lose shielding in places. Voyager dives between several Borg Spheres. It turns about in mid-dive to fire phaser banks right at them: Blowing up six of them in one wide spread.

But…the other Borg Spheres are quickly adapting. And, Voyager is getting heavily damaged by them. The Matrix class starships are holding out. But, their Borg-Federation pulse beam cannons are getting obliterated one by one. Consoles explode, in near blinding sparks of befalling darkness. In the darkness, chilling screams of hundreds of burning officers echo about.

Over communications, Seven orders, "Directive X-T." Over Starfleet combadges, many Unimatrix Zero civilians echo, "acknowledged." They head for the nearest airlocks: Suiting up in environmental suits, armed with two phaser rifles. They're magnetizing themselves to the edge of the airlocks…preparing to fire into the Borg Spheres themselves.

Icheb is working at his station, in front of the warp core. Coolant leaks are coming from all sides, knocking out Joe Carey cold in the process. Icheb mutters to himself, "come on! Just a little…" He's struggling to hold Voyager's warp core together…when he suddenly collapses over the railing. Teary eyed, Kes gasps, "Icheb!" Time itself seems to freeze solid…as Kes hurries over to Icheb's comatose body.

On the actual Voyager… A teary eyed Seven is standing in Holodeck 2, at the holodeck's Arch. Seven has Chakotay's neural transceiver device…which she has been utilizing to try to reach Icheb. Out in the actual Delta Quadrant…Voyager's crew recently received a distress call from the continuing Unimatrix Zero movement: From a Unimatrix Zero civilian familiar to Seven named Laura, with fairly medium curled black hair. Although, the mission is now being monitored by Kellin: Not Seven.

For months, the Unimatrix Zero movement has been gathering more control of Borg Cubes. They were close to liberating billions of Borg. But…the Borg Queen has devised a method to kill all of their spirits: Through enhanced Borg drone cortical nodes, programmed to automatically transfer any personality matrixes to Unimatrix Zero itself. Brainwashing would be instantaneous. Fortunately, Voyager's crew has had several hours to shut it down in time. And, Seven came up with a plan.

On the other side of the Holodeck, a holographic backup of former Borg drone Magnus Hansen is here: Of Seven's long lost father. The holodeck's own imagery is being formed from Magnus's tapped into transceiver frequency: Thanks to Seven's transceiver frequency being very similar to his…because of being assimilated along with her parents twenty one years ago. Through the holodeck, Magnus is seen passing from Borg corridor to Borg corridor of the Borg Queen's latest Unicomplex. He may appear to be Borg. But, he has recently joined the Unimatrix Zero movement: As suggested by Seven, of his own free will.

Magnus is injecting his Borg assimilation tubules into every Borg alcove he passes by: To override their functions and shut them down from within. In several minutes…they'll become defective to the point of no longer being a "relevant" implant for the Borg Collective to distribute. But, all Seven can think about right now…is Icheb's well being. Magnus's resurfacing individuality respects that, and remains respectfully silent.

A tear falls from Seven's face, as she struggles to hold onto her sense of calmness. Over combadge, she reports, "I just lost contact. Sniffle. Icheb's neural pathways…are breaking down." From the Bridge, Captain Janeway sighs deeply, "Seven, listen to me: He's not going to die! Just... Sniffle. Just keep at it."

Seven elaborates, "Captain…you don't understand. His cortical node can't process another neural link: Sob. It's all depends on his individuality now...and it may not be enough." From communications, B'Elanna highlights, "well…I for one think he's a very capable and honorable "individual". Slight chuckle. Just like his mother." Most everyone on the Bridge is surprised by the sentiment…but very much thankfully so. Wiping her tears away, Seven sniffles gratefully, "thank you."

From Icheb's Borg Alcove…

However…sniffle…after this "incident"… We did discover that my cortical node was left slightly damaged. Although, that wasn't the cause of the malfunction: It was the Agony Stimulator programming…taking advantage of the vulnerability of my cortical node. Sniffle. My fragmented memory of the distress call accounted for new memory fragments...I never actually had. It was also responsible for adapting the holographic parameters accordingly…with emotions I never knew I had.

In Icheb's eyes, deep in a dark corner of his mind…

The memories flash by at warp speed. No coolant leak. No more worry. Just silence. Or…so he thought. The Borg Ocampa come into view: Coming for Icheb. Telepathic flashes flood Icheb's dying mind: Of the Matrix class starships, shattering in dark green telepathic energy. The Borg Ocampa are telekinetically propelling themselves through space: Pulling in the melting shards of sickening matter…to replenish their bodies and momentum. The Borg Queen's creepy voice echoes through them, "it's time to rejoin the Collective…Icheb. It's time…to come home."

From Icheb's Borg Alcove…

For a few seconds… Sniffle. I was dying. And at the time…I thought it was destiny. The sudden realization that I was trapped on a holodeck...seemed irrelevant. I thought my progress would carry on. I thought my pathogen would someday help in destroying the Borg: With or without me there to see it. But… Moderate sigh! That was a inefficient use for my thoughts. Precisely because… I soon realized that it wasn't destiny.

In Icheb's eyes…

Icheb mutters back, "go to hell! You were never my family!" The Borg Queen's face appears. With a cold anger, her voice echoes, "then…you shall die. Without…perfection to…save you." The Borg Queen's voice starts to fade. The telepathic images start getting more and more blurry. Suddenly, Kes calls out, "Icheb!" The Borg Queen's image shatters, as Kes telepathically punches through it. Icheb nervously thinks out loud, "I… I don't understand." Kes telepathically walks over to him.

Kes heavily sighs, "I know. But…you're not going to die: Not if I can help it." Icheb concludes sadly, "I appreciate what you're trying to do. I do. But… Sniffle. This was all created from my thoughts. Your program would die as well. And… Moderate sigh. I want one of us to go on. Please, Kes. Violent cough! Violent cough! Save…yourself. Save…the pathogen."

Teary eyed, Kes insists, "I could say the same about you. Sniffle. In a way…my programming was created to be a part of your neural pathways. Please…Icheb. Let me save you." Not sure what else to say, a teary eyed Icheb says, "all right." Kes pulls him close, for one last kiss. Kes phase melds herself into him…in a growing bluish green glow.

Holodeck 1's Main Engineering implodes…in a brilliant bluish green flash of light. Icheb's body is comatose…but breathing. The relieved EMH Doctor and Seven are there in seconds: To get him directly to Sick Bay.

From Icheb's Borg Alcove…

After which… Moderate sigh. There is no more question. I felt both vulnerability and embarrassment. And…it wasn't simply because I gave up hope. It wasn't simply because I suddenly found love…sniffle…only to lose it just as suddenly. Moderate sigh.

It was because I let my emotions fail me…that I failed Seven. I'm usually not a very private individual. Though, I have to admit: I am very selective about who my friends are. More specifically…about every thing. Sniffle. I thought I was always efficient in every thing. But… Moderate sigh. Perhaps that was where my emotions have truly failed me: My overconfidence. Perhaps my social fears are relevant after all.

Maybe I have the confidence to truly apologize to B'Elanna for our "misunderstanding"…or maybe there's nothing left to say about it. Maybe someday, I can have the confidence to ask Kes: About if she desires to have a romantic involvement with me…or not. Sniffle. But, I know one thing's for sure. Slight chuckle. It would be "inefficient" of me to give up trying to be efficient. Because, if I do just give up…I could very well regret it. Seven would. Every one on the crew would. So…I'm going to try. End log.


	16. Season 7: Endgame(Side A)

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

Endgame(Side A):

Side A

With Main Universe Admiral Janeway, from V.I.P. Quarters on Voyager…

Personal log, Stardate… Forget the Stardate! Deep sigh! Sniffle. Twenty five years, give or take a month… I gave up counting the days. Gave up counting how many people died…to get us home. Sniffle. It was too damn painful! It still is. But…I came back to change all of that.

In Admiral Janeway's eyes…

The pain striking flashes resurface: Of a darkness that has burned in her very soul. The Stardate is 55189: In the year 2378. Unimatrix Zero's Cubes find a Borg Transwarp Hub. Soon enough, they extrapolate all six Borg Transwarp Hubs from that single one. And then…they contact USS Voyager's crew.

On the viewscreen in Astrometrics is Korok: With most of his Klingon body restored, give or take a ocular implant. He figures, "it would be a great honor for your warriors to join us in battle." Facing him, Captain Janeway slightly chuckles, "well. Who are we to turn down a opportunity to cripple the Borg?"

Among several, Harry Kim is the first point out, "Captain, with all due respect… Even one of those Transwarp Conduits could get us home in seconds. Can we really just walk away from that?"

In the conference room, Captain Janeway faces the other Senior officers. In consideration, she deeply sighs, "I know I could order you to carry out this order…and none of you would hesitate for a second. But, I'm not going to do that. You know the crewmen who work under you…and you know what your own hearts are telling you. So, we're not going to attempt this…unless everyone in this room agrees." Everyone does.

In Holodeck 2… Seven and Xana are sitting on top of a black and white flying saucer. They're having a romantic picnic: Drinking 1980's soda styled blue cans of light beer, under the stars of a green hill. Xana slightly chuckles, "I know it's not exactly Captain Proton. But…is the program good and starry?" Seven smiles back, "yes…and no: Slight chuckle. This is perfection." She kisses Xana, their arms wrapping around each other. Subtly, Xana remarks, "you know…we can take this "perfection" to my Quarters. If you're up for it." Xana and Seven start to get up. Seven sarcastically says, "we are as one. What is your assumption?" Xana chuckles, "I know: I just like to hear you say it."

Voyager's crew even opens a channel to Species 8473. They had babies of their own on the way…on their Terrasphere. But, they were more than happy to lend a hand: Including a enhanced strand of Icheb's pathogen, which could disconnect the Borg Collective itself from the inside out. For some time now, Species 8473 has already been working on it with Voyager's crew.

On the Astrometrics viewscreen, Species 8473 Beverly Crusher slightly smiles, "we're already on our way." Chakotay replies, "sounds like a plan."

Through Seven's Borg ocular implant, the Borg Queen creepily looks to her, "You've always been my favorite, Seven: In spite of their obvious imperfections. I could assimilate you right now. But, I'm willing to spare you and your crew. Provided you stay out of my nebulas." In cold anger, Seven mutters, "why should we comply? No doubt you'll attempt to assimilate us all anyway."

The Borg Queen sighs reflectively, "it is rather tempting. Korok's "collective" however… They must be assimilated. This is merely a hint of what my capabilities are now: Thanks to the information collected by Unimatrix Zero's efficient drones. Imagine how you'd feel if I were forced to assimilate you…to ensure their assimilation." Seven collapses in a corridor: Coughing violently on her side, before being beamed directly to Sick Bay.

Millions of Borg Cubes gather around the Borg Transwarp Hubs, against Unimatrix Zero's forces. The very vacuum of space is filled with Borg cutting beams and exploding Borg Cubes. Unimatrix Zero's defenses are easily breached, through resassimilated Unimatrix Zero civilians. Among themselves…they didn't have a chance. Corridors go ablaze: With whirling Borg implant debris and dark red liquid drops. Two of Voyager's Decks are cut into ribbons by Borg cutting beam arrays. The EMH Doctor beams out in time…but Sick Bay is obliterated. Screams pierce through the explosions.

In the Delta Flyer, Seven charges straight for the Borg Unicomplex. Over communications, Captain Janeway calls out, "Seven, what the hell are you...!?" The Delta Flyer explodes in the Unicomplex's shielding. In the explosion, Seven beams directly inside. At a Borg conduit, she injects in her Borg assimilation tubules. Tearfully, Seven calls out to the crew, "go!" From behind, she's assimilated by surprise: By her own reassimilated father.

On the Bridge, Captain Janeway sadly orders, "destroy the Transwarp Hub." The Transwarp Hub network explodes in brilliantly painful nebulous orange light. But…billions of Unimatrix Zero civilians died to make it possible. Seven dies instantly...with the explosion. Species 8473 is dead. And, a good number of Voyager's crew is left feeling dead themselves: In the Delta Quadrant.

From Admiral Janeway's V.I.P. Quarters…

Since that day… It was never the same. We were never the same. Twelve crewmembers…dead. Among billions. Sniffle! Not even Unimatrix Zero's assistance could ease the pain. Sniffle. Ten years later…we finally got home.

In Admiral Janeway's eyes…

The mostly dark green Borg city like lights of skyscrapers light the night: The same ones Admiral Janeway is looking out to. The pathways and roads of San Francisco are made out of Borg corridors…only without the walls. And, it's not just in San Francisco…but across most of the Americas and all of China. Though, they have many relay stations installed for the sole purpose of overriding any assimilation attempt on them: Mostly designed by Admiral Janeway personally. The Borg haven't returned for several years. But, most everyone in Starfleet agrees it doesn't hurt to be prepared.

Many of the several million of Unimatrix Zero civilians left have deborgified themselves into society: Despite most of the people on their respective homeworlds outright treating them like a plague. But, some chose to remain on their Cubes…as part of the Federation's fleet. And largely with their assistance, the Federation fleet has effectively developed a means to restore and protect subspace from accumulatively harmful warp drive effects: Even for a narrow region of space called the Hekaras Corridor. They're in the form of Type 9 and Type 10 phase discriminators: Phase discriminators that can create a subspace isolation field between shielding and hulls, which harmlessly repels the accumulatively harmful warp drive effects out of phase from normal time-space.

The second greatest development of the past fourteen years comes from the USS Voyager itself…for the most part. In cooperation with Unimatrix Zero, Voyager's crew successfully developed their own slipstream drive: Taking about eighteen years off their journey, even at Transwarp. And now, the Andromeda galaxy and the Whirlpool galaxy are starting to be explored by Starfleet vessels with slipstream drives.

The third and last greatest development has been captivatingly inspired by the EMH Doctor's mobile emitter's capabilities. From studying its inner workings, a voluntary Federation manmade prescription for aging was made: Called Chronexaline. It doesn't actually make people younger. But, it decelerates aging on the surface by protecting biomatter from tachyon radiation. It's also become a bizarrely popular alternative to stasis chambers…with the proper care.

But, Admiral Janeway's eyes have a very aged look to them: Flashes of the Borg, exploding Borg Cubes, and the Borg Queen going by. She sighs heavily…as if the war with the Borg never really ended.

From Admiral Janeway's V.I.P. Quarters…

But, at what cost?! Sniffle! Yes. I know exactly what my "other" me was thinking: "Why would I want to tamper with such a rosy timeline?" Well… Sniffle. Only on the surface. In reality…

In Admiral Janeway's eyes…

The Stardate is 80573: In the year 2403. It's the fifteen anniversary of Voyager's return: Being held in the mostly yellow and red flowered gardens of Golden Gate Park. Unimatrix Zero civilian guests are all over the place…along with ninety eight Voyager crewmembers, exclusive neon blue lit tables, and glasses of bubbly gold champagne. For the night, they have the flower gardens of the park to themselves. Admiral Janeway herself is there: Hand in hand with the EMH Doctor, and greeting everyone.

In the EMH Doctor's eyes… There are flashes of many holodecks. Across their control screens is a popular holo-novel trilogy, called Photons Be Free: Written by the EMH Doctor, co-edited by Admiral Janeway. They're of a EMH, who finds out his entire existence is itself a holodeck: Created by a Nacene Caretaker, who hoped for him to break free from it and become the next Caretaker. And, from his own holodeck…the EMH Doctor gazes out to the holographic stars.

Back in the relative present… K'Elanna and Neelix are there as well: Drinking their Klingon bloodwine, and mostly just keeping to themselves. Though, oddly…no one's seen Kes for twenty five years.

After thirteen minutes, Admiral Janeway and the EMH Doctor have separated for a bit. B'Elanna is sipping from her champagne glass…when Admiral Janeway finds her. B'Elanna is in a fairly light brown jacket over a dark brown undershirt. She has fairly longer hair over her shoulders, with only a few grayish strands across the sides.

Admiral Janeway politely inquires, "how's Tom?" B'Elanna highlights, "slight sigh. "Same old" Tom."

In her eyes… She sees flashes of a gray haired Tom Paris: Commanding a holographic dark red planked pirate ship, and drinking rum. And, pieces of Tom Paris's medical report on a PADD: Stardate …no signs of heightened aggression...but…extreme holodiction…incurable.

Back to the relative present… B'Elanna reasons, "but… I'm taking a page out of the Doctor's "book". And, recording the reunion for him." She shows the Admiral a neon blue Federation holo-imager on her person. Admiral Janeway commends, "he's a very lucky man." B'Elanna comments, "well…moderate sigh…at least he knows it."

In her eyes… She sees flashes of a grown Miral: With rough medium hair to her shoulders. Of her storming out, away from Tom Paris's holodeck and B'Elanna. And then, of her in mostly dark gray worn Klingon armor: With Kohlar's Bat'leth raised high, gleaming in the light of the Kuvah'magh.

Back in the relative present… B'Elanna says sadly, "but…thanks." She sips some more champagne. Admiral Janeway replies, "you're welcome. So…what about the High Council?" At a near whisper, B'Elanna says, "well…they had a hell of a lot of questions." Admiral Janeway checks nervously, "well, what did you tell them?" B'Elanna summarizes, "the truth…with a "Klingon twist". I told them that my beloved former Captain, who had led us many times in glorious battle, would be honored to accept Korath's house into the Great Houses." Admiral Janeway slightly smiles, "I think it'll work. Do you?" B'Elanna reasons, "to the Klingon chancellors…I'm just the Federation liaison. But, I'd like to think I still have some influence."

Around this time… On the historically preserved very brownish red steps to the greenhouse, a grown Naomi nervously walks with each step. She doesn't have a Starfleet dress uniform on, like most of Voyager's attending crewmembers do. Instead, she wears a very dark purple dress, decorated with stars. Her curly hair is half over her eyes. She looks like she's sleepwalking. Yet, she carries a champagne glass with ease. With a head of gray hair, Captain Harry Kim asks courteously, "need a hand?" Naomi slightly chuckles, looking up at him.

She insists, "no, Harry. I got enough of that in the mental hospital. But…thank you." Captain Harry Kim looks stunned, "Naomi?" Naomi slightly nods, just stepping off the steps. Captain Harry Kim sighs, "I'm sorry. I just… Is that a new look for you?"

Naomi concludes solemnly, "it's ok. Five years out, and everything looks all new again. Well… Heavy sigh. More or less." She swallows some prescription pills from a pale yellow silvery canister. Naomi explains awkwardly, "my mixed biology can't take in hyposprays: Not for my conditions, anyway."

In her eyes… She sees flashes of a bright white tiled room. And, a lengthy medical diagnostic on a PADD screen: For Nihilophia, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and suicidal thoughts. Which she herself has looked over in recent years.

Back to the relative present… Captain Harry Kim reflects delicately, "maybe I should've visited more." Naomi somewhat assures him, "it's nothing: If I learned anything from Seven, it's…how "emotional" we can all be. Heavy sigh. Sniffle! Say hi to the Admiral for me?" Not sure what else to really say, Captain Harry Kim slightly nods solemnly, "sure." Naomi thanks him. She heads to the nearest bathroom to "freshen" up. But to herself, over a stall…she's fighting some hints of nausea and silent tears.

Admiral Janeway and the EMH Doctor then see Captain Harry Kim. A little startled, Captain Harry Kim says, "ohh. Hello, Admiral. I was just about to look for you." With a faintly troubled look to her, Admiral Janeway slightly chuckles, "looks like I saved you a bit of trouble, Captain." Captain Harry Kim slightly chuckles. The three of them introduce themselves to each other. Admiral Janeway inquires, "what is it?" Captain Harry Kim says, "Naomi told me to tell you she says hi. You probably just missed her." Admiral Janeway solemnly voices, "maybe she just needs more time. We…all needed time of our own to heal. Sniffle! But…moderate sigh…it's good to see you." The EMH Doctor pretty much agrees. Captain Harry Kim figures, "that's true."

The EMH Doctor wonders a little uneasily, "I know this may sound rude of me… But, where is Lana and Kiarin?" Captain Harry Kim mostly assures him, "probably just running a little late. That's all."

In Captain Harry Kim's eyes… He sees flashes of himself in a 21st century modeled metallic Jacuzzi: With two human women. Lana has long parted golden brown hair and gold earring buds. Kiarin is a Unimatrix Zero civilian, with medium curly black hair, matching earring buds, and a Borg implant on the side of her face. They're down to their light blue bras: Making out with Harry Kim. And, seeming to wash his troubles away.

Back in the relative present… Not long after, Harry Kim reflects, "I've been meaning to tell you…that I'm sorry I missed the funeral ceremony. I…" Admiral Janeway mostly assures him, "you were in the Andromeda galaxy for four years. Everyone understood." Captain Harry Kim concludes, "I wish I could understand it myself. Sniffle. Excuse me." He solemnly walks away, leaving with a sour note on Admiral Janeway and the EMH Doctor's minds. With a heavy heart, Admiral Janeway concludes, "maybe coming to this reunion wasn't as good a idea as I thought." Considerately, the EMH Doctor sighs heavily, "maybe."

From Admiral Janeway's V.I.P. Quarters…

…it was far from it. Molly and her puppies had all died of old age, and I didn't even get to say goodbye. More than I can say…for billions. Sniffle!

Most of all…for Tuvok. Deep sigh. He's worse than dead. Before we got home…the Pon Farr caught up with him. Sniffle. Meditation was no longer helping. And, the holographic facsimile was only barely sufficient to begin with. We may have delayed his madness for nine more years. But…not by a long shot.

In Admiral Janeway's eyes…

On a very dark blue Starfleet Medical medical bed, Tuvok's body is under the sheets: Almost completely colorless, yet barely still breathing. The room is lit with Borg like blue lights. Admiral Janeway looks to him…teary eyed and pained by the nightmares that still haunt her. And, hoping Tuvok is dreaming better: In his own logical way. A random Unimatrix Zero civilian is the physician here: Who respectfully gave Admiral Janeway time along with Tuvok. After a painful silence, Admiral Janeway voices tearfully, "hello, Tuvok." No response.

At his bedside is a PADD. A year before returning to the Alpha Quadrant…he wrote a rather strange piece on it. Admiral Janeway was there to comfort him at his ceremonial Vulcan flame, as he wrote it. And, she knew it word for word. It says this:

I am a candle of light…that can not be logical.

Yet, I have logic? I am deeply confused. A confused candle.

Five by three, seven hands in place… One candle that is two.

Her disappearance… One candle.

What remains… Two candles.

The surface remains a mystery.

Admiral Janeway sniffles, "Tuvok… If you can hear me… There's something I need to tell you. I'm going away, and I may not see you again." Tuvok's eyes slightly move. As if it was his last word, Tuvok struggles to say, "Ca…p…t…ain." A tear falls from his pale face. Admiral Janeway slightly smiles, "that's right. Slight bittersweet chuckle. I hope you understand what I have to do." With heavy breathing, Tuvok recites, "one candle that is two. Her…disa…pearance… The surface…remains a…my…st…ery." He falls back into his coma…smiling in a very non-Vulcan manner.

Solemnly, Admiral Janeway realizes, "me. I'm the candle. Somehow, someway…you knew. Slight chuckle. Goodbye, Tuvok." She leaves Tuvok, closing the dark blue metallic door behind her. But, what she doesn't see around him…is a hint of a bluish green glow.

From Admiral Janeway's V.I.P. Quarters…

Though…thinking back to Tuvok's words… It wasn't just madness. I should've seen it: Right in that room! Sniffle! Kes was trying to warn me. And, she was in hiding: Hiding from the time-space continuum. Hiding from…Lieutenant Braxton.

To start with… Sniffle. I knew this was a one-way trip. And, Q certainly wasn't going be of much help. Some bullshit about "if you can't stand a little heat in the galaxy..." The hell with him!

I knew that I was coming to bring Voyager home. That I came to bring the family back…and billions of others: Against all odds. But…

In Admiral Janeway's eyes…

Above Starfleet Communications, the USS Relativity is hovering about: In a time where the Earth was still forming. Admiral Janeway is coming down the hallway from Professor Barclay's office. The walls are wooden, but only in coloration. Admiral Janeway carries a slivery thermos of coffee: Which Professor Barclay recently gave her for her journey. She sniffles, pausing to look out a window: Into the darkness beyond. Towards a graveyard of Voyager's dead, set on a grassy hill reserved for them. She thinks firmly to herself, "when I'm on the other side…things will be better: For all of us. Sniffle. Or…I'll die trying. "Whenever" I go… I hope Kenneth…understands."

To her surprise, K'Elanna appears out of nowhere: Through a dark purplish subspace corridor to Admiral Janeway's shuttle. On it is a temporal subspace corridor generator, called a Chrono-Wave Generator. It resembles a miniature Caretaker Array: Only with some subatomic modifications, which has it looking more crystalline and pale red. Miral was keeping up appearances in several battles for the Great House of K'Elanna…while K'Elanna herself was helping Korath build the Chrono-Wave Generator: As the Admiral planned in the recent year.

K'Elanna looks worried, "Admiral, we got to…!" The turbolift opens, with a Lieutenant Braxton and a Captain Ducane coming out.

With a temporal disruptor in hand, Captain Duncane warns, "I'm afraid you are under arrest, Admiral...and K'Elanna." His temporal disruptor is a Force 2 temporal disruptor: With a 2 sided spinning orange and red rimmed disc, and a coiled center for channeling miniature temporal distortions. Lieutenant Braxton is armed with a 29th century phaser, glaring in Admiral Janeway's direction.

K'Elanna slightly chuckles nervously, "what do you expect that disruptor to do: Tickle me?" Captain Duncane reflects, "this isn't the first time we've come across non-corporeals. It'd only stun you. But…I hope you don't have to experience it for yourself." Admiral Janeway mutters, "Captain Braxton." Lieutenant Braxton begrudgingly remarks, "I wish I was still a Captain. I was demoted to Lieutenant…thanks to you and my future me."

Around this time… The crew of the flying saucer designed USS Rhode Island has just taken Korath and his band of Klingons into custody. Captain Harry Kim sighs heavily to himself, looking out a window in his dark gray Ready Room. Flashes of Neelix's worried expression appear before him. And, the screams of billions ring in his ears. At a near whisper, he appeals to the stars themselves, "forgive me, Admiral. Sniffle! Please...forgive me."

Back at Starfleet Communications… Admiral Janeway coldly says, "couldn't have happened to a nicer Captain." Lieutenant Braxton mutters harshly, "don't tempt me! Now… Moderate sigh. Take us to the Chrono-Wave Generator, and the charges will be dropped before they even occur."

Admiral Janeway slightly chuckles, "certainly a generous offer." The subspace corridor has already timed out, bending back into normal time-space.

Admiral Janeway concludes, "but…I'm afraid it's not good enough." Dark purplish portals open up under Admiral Janeway and K'Elanna's feet. Lieutenant Braxton mutters, "now?!" Captain Duncane swiftly deduces, "afraid so." He fires a cosmically rippling blue temporal distortion from his temporal disruptor…sealing K'Elanna's portal shut on her. She crashes through the floor, into a dark office. In a bone chilling cry, she fires dark purple telepathic lightning straight for Captain Duncane: Just before smashing hard against several floors of terminals.

K'Elanna groans violently, the weight of the floors over her bruised body. She passes out. But, Captain Duncane has been taken out in one shot by her. Infuriated, Lieutenant Braxton uses his tricorder to beam over to the back of Starfleet Communications.

From there, he sees the EMH Doctor with a very nervous Professor Barclay: In the dark of night, across from a Unimatrix Zero relay station. Professor Barclay has a gray head of hair, and a yellow Starfleet dress uniform. Admiral Janeway, the EMH Doctor, and Professor Barclay are in a heated argument: Just outside of Starfleet Communications. No doubt as to what it's about.

Acting Captain Braxton thinks back to his future self…from a few years ago. Right now…it seems as though it was only yesterday. He mutters furiously to himself, ""He" was right from the start. They're all in on it: All because of Janeway! Well…that's about to end right now." Captain Braxton is about to shoot Admiral Janeway. But…Kes gets in the way.

She appears directly in front of him, telekinetically hurling his phaser out of his grasp. Braxton gasps under his breath, "but…you can't be…!" In her dark purple Starfleet uniform, Kes pinpoints, "all evidence to the contrary. Stand down, Braxton: Please." Captain Braxton figures determinedly, "no. Not this "time"." From his pocket, he presses a button on his tricorder: Beaming out of sight. Kes fires a bluish green telepathic wave at him…but misses. She worriedly looks into the subatomic level, wondering where he could be.

By now, Professor Barclay is gone. Admiral Janeway is leaving the EMH Doctor behind. But…he reluctantly voices sadly, "I don't suppose I can talk you out of this, Kathryn?" Sympathetically, Admiral Janeway starts to say, "I'm afraid so, Kenneth. I… Sniffle! I wish…"

Then…it suddenly becomes all too clear where Captain Braxton is. A Aeon class timeship is charging weapons: From the USS Relativity, where the body of Captain Duncane has been beamed back onboard. The menacing Aeon class timeship fires its subatomic disruptors, straight for Admiral Janeway. The EMH Doctor shouts, "go!" He pushes Admiral Janeway to the side…as the subatomic disruptor waves hit him. The EMH Doctor's mobile emitter is molecularly imploding…along with his program. His holographic parameters explode, in a flash of all too real looking dark red liquid. And as quickly as it started…there's nothing left of him. Admiral Janeway struggles to her feet, fighting the urge to sob. There's no time to mourn now. Then and there…she knows all too well.

She breaks into a run. Captain Braxton keeps pursuing, now more furious than ever. The subatomic disruptor waves keep coming. Kes struggles to disperse them, with her bluish green telepathic bubbles. Some make it past Kes. They hit open roof shuttle like hovercars, tearing them apart at the molecular level. Admiral Janeway barely stays ahead of them, circling back for the Starfleet Communication grounds. And in those seconds, she sees from the corner of her eye, "Kes?!"

Teary eyed, Kes calls out, "we don't have much time: Go!" She opens a bluish green subspace corridor to Admiral Janeway's shuttle. Tears fall from Admiral Janeway's face. She runs into the closing subspace corridor…just as Kes is sickly torn apart at her mostly bluish green and dark red subatomic particles.

From Admiral Janeway's V.I.P. Quarters…

Sniffle! I had no idea how true that truly has become…until it all hit me.

In Admiral Janeway's eyes…

Admiral Janeway's shuttle is taking off from a high orbit over Neptune. Frost on the shuttle's hull breaks off, as the shuttle reaches impulse speed.

Struggling to focus, a deeply saddened Admiral Janeway orders, "computer… Activate the Chrono-Wave Generator. Set to these spatial and temporal coordinates." The computer responds, "affirmative." Behind her, the Chrono-Wave Generator is clearly big enough for half the shuttle: Wired in, over both back seats. It starts humming: Generating a dark purple and blue cosmic wave of a subspace rupture. The rest of the interior looks quite similar to the first Delta Flyer. But, with rimming of dark red visor like décor and bright green paneled computer screens.

The subspace rupture is engulfing the shuttle. Captain Braxton's timeship though is following it in, firing subatomic disruptors. Sparks fly from Admiral Janeway's exploding console. The impact ripples through the shuttle. Admiral Janeway grabs onto the seat, struggling to remain upright. The shuttle goes into the subspace rupture, along with Captain Braxton's timeship.

Flashes of a bright purplish blue wave come about: Straight through swirls of time and space. One timeline is of a Ocampan homeworld that didn't become a desert, and so there was no Caretaker abducting starships like Voyager. Another is of a timeline where Voyager's crew put on trial led to a 24th century Red Scare, against any resemblance of Maquis. And, so on and so forth.

Admiral Janeway commands, "computer…deploy the ablative armor!" She hurries over to the second console, rerouting control to it by thought alone. More specifically, through a dark red rimmed pair of goggles with computer screens called a Synaptic Interface Guidance System: Designed by Tom Paris for a Delta Flyer Mark III, several years ago. It acts as a emergency neural interface to the shuttle's systems, which requires intense focus to use without losing one's mind.

In Admiral Janeway's mind, the computer responds, "unable to comply. Ablative armor generator prototype is offline." Breathing heavily, Admiral Janeway thinks, "of course it is! Of course it is. Deep sigh! Fire quantum torpedoes. Evasive pattern Beta Six." The shuttle automatically fires quantum torpedoes from the back, while turning sharply around the timeship. The timeship's subatomic disruptors just weaken subspace, which bends back into the time-space continuum anyway.

Captain Braxton's timeship's shields are weakened. But, he fires the timeship's subatomic disruptors directly at the other quantum torpedo. It dissipates in seconds. And as the Chrono-Wave is fading, the USS Voyager of 2378 is coming within visual range: Much to the mixed relief of Admiral Janeway.

From Admiral Janeway's V.I.P. Quarters…

My intentions have been nothing but noble. I don't doubt that. But, on the other hand… Deep sigh! I may have just doomed us all. To Lieutenant Braxton: Just by arriving here. And now, my "other" me doesn't even know what she's going to do with me. Sniffle!

I know what I'd do: Keep the technology, give the "other" "other" me to… Damn! Sniffle. I'm getting a headache…just thinking about that godforsaken timeship. Where was I? Deep sigh! Right. …to Lieutenant Braxton, and hope he's just as off the deep end as he sounds. But, can I really put our lives on the line like this…again? Based solely on a hunch?! Sniffle! I don't know. I don't know.

All I know is that anything is better…than a past without Voyager. Deep sigh. And if it takes my death to ensure that past… Seven years before all of this even started… I welcome it.


	17. Season 7: Endgame(Side B)

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

Endgame(Side B):

Side B

On the USS Voyager, from Captain Janeway's Quarters…

Captain's log, Stardate 55189.06. Deep sigh. Seven years ago…I made a promise to get this crew home. Can I turn my back on that promise: Knowing how broken the family would most likely be…again? Sniffle. Knowing how billions are most likely going to die…regardless of what my decision is?! Sniffle!

It is tempting to just go home, and make our stand there: In the Alpha Quadrant. Even though I know full well that that would be too great a risk.

Though…with my future self onboard…

In Captain Janeway's eyes…

A shaken Captain Janeway calls over communications, "Senior officers, report to the Bridge." From the Bridge, she's walking into the conference room: With Admiral Janeway.

In Admiral Janeway's teary eyes… She sees flashes of Captain Braxton's Timeship, coming out of the fading fast subspace rupture. Along with Admiral Janeway's shuttle, coming in red hot. And, of the Timeship's subatomic disruptors barely shot down by the 2378 USS Voyager's phasers: Warding him off for who knows how long.

Around this time, in the privacy of Xana's dimly lit Quarters… The room's walls have B-movie chalky painted posters. Over the dimness, a audio copy from a holo-novel plays, "…reading her spare yet elegant prose, he was newly reminded of T'Sara's ability to present brilliant insights as…" It's of the holo-novel series The Next Generation, titled The Devil's Heart. Xana and Seven are on the bed, making out to the audio like it's a "lesson in humanity" for them both. Then, over communications, they hear, "Senior officers, report to the Bridge." Seven moderately sighs, as she grabs her bodysuit to the side. She starts for Xana's bathroom…to wash up before putting the bodysuit back on.

Seven mutters in agitation, "next time…we should deactivate the communications systems in your Quarters." With a puffy white like bra on, Xana slightly chuckles, "that'd be screwy nice. Though…a "star family" can be too." Somewhat amused by this, Seven concludes, "not exactly how I'd phrase it…but it's to the point." Xana figures cheerfully, "thanks."

In the conference room… Admiral Janeway deeply sighs, "Captain…you absolutely sure about…?" Across the way from her, Captain Janeway decides firmly, "if this was simply left up to me...yes. Sniffle! But, this isn't about what I want. Even if it is a godforsaken choice…it's our choice to make: As a crew. As…a family."

Not long afterwards… Captain Janeway faces the other Senior officers. They're standing before her. Admiral Janeway is at the back windows, sipping from a cup of sharp brown Green Eye coffee. She fights the urge to double over coughing, from the mere taste of it. In consideration, Captain Janeway deeply sighs, "I… I know I could order you to carry out this order. And, none of you would hesitate for a second. But, I'm not going to do that. You know the crewmen who work under you…and you know what your own hearts are telling you. So, we're not going to attempt this…unless everyone in this room agrees. No one will think any less of you if you don't."

Most everyone is tempted to say yes to going home. But, the room is deadly silent. Admiral Janeway looks nervously up at Captain Janeway…as though this was going to be her last waking moment of sanity. Chakotay looks like he's about to say something. But, Harry Kim is the first to say it.

He says, "Captain?" Captain Janeway turns to him, "go ahead, Harry."

In a voice all his own, Harry Kim voices, "I think it's safe to say…that no one on this crew has been more…obsessed with getting home than I have. But…" He puts his silver glass down. He continues, "but… Moderate sigh. When I think about everything we've been through together… And about the lives at stake… Sniffle. Maybe it's not the destination that really matters. Maybe it's the journey. And, if that journey takes a little longer...so we can do something we all believe in… I can't think of any place I'd rather be, or any people I'd rather be with."

Tom Paris raises his glass, "to the journey." Chakotay raises his glass, "to the journey." Everyone agrees, clinking their glasses together: Except for Admiral Janeway. A slightly relieved Captain Janeway is about to take a sip from her glass.

But, she pauses. She worriedly turns back to Admiral Janeway…only to realize she's just left the room.

From Captain Janeway's Quarters…

…there's fight in all of us yet. There's still the family. There's still Unimatrix Zero. And…there's still Voyager.

In Captain Janeway's eyes…

Captain Janeway is in her Quarters, having dinner with the EMH Doctor: With thick brown Maggi Goreng noodles and red wine. With the EMH Doctor's upgraded holographic liver though…installed three years ago… He's far from drunk. Looking up from his food, the EMH Doctor compliments, "well, Kathryn… Slight chuckle. You've sure outdone yourself. And for you…outdoing yourself is a daily occurrence." Swept in the moment, Captain Janeway warmly chuckles, "well, I try. But…I'm afraid I can't take all the credit. Tom recommended them: "Instant noodles". Saved me a hell of a lot of…trouble."

She puts down her fork. The EMH Doctor inquires, "what's wrong?" Captain Janeway looks up to him, "I… Moderate sigh. It's not you. But… Sniffle. I can't help but think to myself: Is this really the right thing to do? Risking everything to destroy the Transwarp Hubs? Or…is my future self knowing what she's talking about? For the family? For the future?"

With a sympathetic hand on hers, the EMH Doctor puts delicately, "well… Moderate sigh. If it's any consolation... The future isn't exactly written in stone. From a logical standpoint… If we are very much aware of how it can unfold… It stands to reason that we can write our own history. A future you isn't necessarily going to be the only future you…just as a future Unimatrix Zero isn't necessarily going to be the only one."

Captain Janeway slightly chuckles, "it is. Thank you." She graciously holds his hand up to kiss it, before pulling her own hand away. The EMH Doctor figures graciously, "you're welcome." Captain Janeway reflects, "you know something, Kenneth? In the past seven years…your logic has always impressed me. Even when I didn't realize it at first…it's always found a way to help me be a better person. Thank you for being here: For the journey."

The EMH Doctor slightly smiles, "well, I am a rather impressive hologram to aspire to. Thank you. Though, admittedly… Slight chuckle. There have been times where I learn a thing or two from you." Captain Janeway then suddenly recalls that there's still food on the table…getting cold. She figures, "well then… Here's to some of Voyager's "great minds". And, to the journey."

They clink their wine glasses together, letting themselves be swept back into the moment for a little while longer.

In Captain Janeway's eyes…

I still have something of a headache… Slight sigh. Just thinking about her future. Or, to be more precise… Our future.

But…there's fight in us yet. All things considered. And, as Kenneth has so kindly brought to my attention… We can write our own history. Slight chuckle. If we know how to make it possible.

First thing in the morning…I think I'll have myself a little talk with my future self. See if we can't find a way through this conflict: Together.

In Captain Janeway's eyes…

On the Bridge, Captain Janeway warily checks, "Harry…are you sure?" Harry Kim reluctantly nods, "yes, ma'am. Though, I must admit: I don't know what to make of it. The Neural Interface Guidance System is being integrated into Cargo Bay 2: By the Admiral…and Seven." A shaken Chakotay concludes, "maybe there's more to this future than just Unimatrix Zero."

Captain Janeway concludes heavily, "I fear you're not wrong, Chakotay." She orders over combadge, "transporter room, prepare to beam me directly to Cargo Bay 2: Alone." Hiding some hints of worry from ill effects, Tuvok considers, "Captain, shouldn't a Security team…?" Captain Janeway openly pinpoints, "I appreciate your concern. Moderate sigh. Normally…I'd agree. But, this is a future me we're dealing with." She orders over combadge, "energize."

Captain Janeway beams to Cargo Bay 2. She turns her attention to one of the Borg alcoves. It now has the Neural Interface Guidance System's goggles attached to the Borg alcove's green screen, half open and half functional. Seven and Admiral Janeway are on either side of it, working on them. Captain Janeway sharply addresses, "all right: Mind telling me what the hell you two are doing?"

Seven turns in surprise, "I'm…sorry, Captain. Apparently… Sniffle. I've been highly misinformed as to your intentions." Sniffling a bit herself, Captain Janeway insists, "no need to apologize, Seven: I know how resourceful "I" can be…let alone a future self." Seven urges, "then…permission to return to my "actual" duties? Captain?" Captain Janeway says lowly, "of course." With a cold glare at Admiral Janeway…Seven walks off.

Admiral Janeway uncomfortably voices, "Captain… Moderate sigh. I know what it…" With forcefulness in her voice, Captain Janeway suggests, "let's take a walk to my Quarters. Where we can discuss this like "civilized" people." Admiral Janeway reluctantly admits solemnly, "fair enough."

With Admiral Janeway, in Captain Janeway's Quarters… Captain Janeway sits on the bed, facing her future self. She gets to the point, "all right: From the top. Were you…or weren't you giving us over to the Borg?" In Captain Janeway's chair, a teary eyed Admiral Janeway sighs into her hands. After a few minutes, she looks up, "you really don't know, do you?" Captain Janeway urges, "maybe I do. All too well. Sniffle! But…I want to hear it from you."

Admiral Janeway slightly smiles, "I was idealistic like you: Twenty five years ago. And where did that get us? Billions…dead. Because of the Borg. Twenty crewmembers…dead. I only came back to save billions…and get the family back. Sniffle! But, now I may have inadvertently doomed us all: To Lieutenant Braxton. The Borg could be our only chance against him. They could give us safe passage in exchange for the Timeship's technology…and we can give ourselves the time to make our stand: In the Alpha Quadrant."

Captain Janeway voices sternly, "maybe we should go back to Sick Bay." Admiral Janeway slightly sighs irritatedly, "why? So you can "put me out of my misery"? If it was that simple to get home and destroy the Borg Transwarp Hub network…you'd think I'd have already done so." Captain Janeway comments coldly, "so that the Doctor can reconfirm your identity. I refuse to believe that I could be this fatalistically stupid. In my opinion…the Borg would easily outnumber us by then. It's too great a risk: It is suicide!"

Admiral Janeway remarks sharply, "suicide?! Sniffle! With all due respect, "Captain"…while we're in here with this pointless bullshit… The Borg will soon be reassimilating every member of Unimatrix Zero: Wherever we go in the Delta Quadrant. If we don't strike soon…we'll have already lost everything! That is, if Lieutenant Braxton doesn't shoot us first." Captain Janeway reasons, "correct me if I'm wrong, Admiral. But…surely you've thought of reasoning with him? Being a future self of me, after all..."

Admiral Janeway coldly says, "I've given that some thought lately. Unfortunately… Deep sigh. He might as well be beyond reason. Kes is dead…because of him. Sniffle! I take some small comfort in the fact that that was part of one timeline. But…" Not believing what she's hearing, Captain Janeway voices shakily, "what?" Admiral Janeway brings up, "are you forgetting the Temporal Prime Directive, Captain?"

Captain Janeway mutters, "well, the hell with it!" In solemnness, Admiral Janeway slightly chuckles, "well…at least we agree on something. All right."

She continues, "Kes and Kenneth…are going to be killed: Long after we come back home. By Lieutenant Braxton. Deep sigh. Tuvok becomes comatose…from a biochemical condition that he hasn't told you about yet. Seven is going to die…tomorrow. She beams into the Borg Queen's Unicomplex...to ensure the Borg Transwarp Hubs are destroyed. But, at the cost of her own life. Sniffle. Twelve crewmembers died that day. Part of us died that day. That idealistic side of yours? The one that sees a way through every time for your crew, no matter what the odds? Deep sigh. That's what died in me: That day."

In sympathy, Captain Janeway urges softly, "then maybe it's time to trust "yourself" on this one. Together, our "idealism" can see a way through this conflict. Besides…if we know what's going to happen… Then we can avoid it." Admiral Janeway slightly smiles, "I wish it was that simple. Seven years ago…you had the chance to use the Caretaker's array to get Voyager home. Instead, you destroyed it. This situation is not much different…is it? Even with all we accomplished… We're here: Faced with the same difficult choice. Sniffle! Both have their high points. Granted. But…I for one didn't come back here: Just so you can make the mistake of destroying your way home."

Captain Janeway reasons, "then I'm sorry to disappoint you. But, you got your Voyager home: Which means we can too. Only…without the casualties." Admiral Janeway pinpoints, "do you really think it's ever been that easy? Out in the Delta Quadrant? Frankly, I wish it was: Same as you. But, even if you alter Voyager's route, limit your contact with alien species… Deep sigh. You're going to lose people. But, with my plan…we have a chance to get the family safe and sound by tomorrow. Are you really going to walk away from that?"

Captain Janeway suddenly hits on a idea, "slight chuckle. Maybe there is a way to have our cake and eat it too. Maybe we're going about this all wrong. There's two of us…but only one Lieutenant Braxton most certainly wants. We just have to keep it that way." Sounding more hopeful, Admiral Janeway wonders, "what have you got in mind?"

From Captain Janeway's Quarters…

Moderate sigh. Yes. Normally, with one of me as Captain… We'd find a way to end this conflict.

But, my future self already has: With grave results beyond our worst imaginings. Sniffle! I have nothing but my deepest sympathy, for what she's had to go through. Despite us being at odds with each other.

Our odds have never been greater. And, our hopes have never been more challenged. But...

In Captain Janeway's eyes…

Millions of Borg Cubes gather around the Borg Transwarp Hubs, targeting Unimatrix Zero's forces. The nebulous orange light casts a shadow of mystery, over the dark brown Transwarp Conduit apertures. High above it all…is Captain Braxton's repaired Timeship. Voyager is coming within range. With cold anger, he hails them, "Janeway. Moderate sigh. You are protecting a dangerous future you. Give her to me…or I will have no choice but to destroy your past!"

From the Astrometrics's viewscreen, Captain Janeway faces him coldly. To make matters worse…she realizes Captain Braxton didn't come alone. A Borg Seven of Nine is onboard his Timeship, from several years ago. The only reason she doesn't just attack Captain Braxton is because of Captain Braxton keeping her in a very adaptive dark blue Borg like force field. Very shaken, Captain Janeway mutters fiercely, "if you weren't such a brazenly godforsaken "Captain"… We'd be in complete agreement. Heavy sigh. As much as it kills me to say it." Looking taken aback, Captain Braxton moderately sighs to her, "I'm… I'm sorry I had to go to such extremes. But... With a future Admiral Janeway…I really had no choice. I take it you understand?"

Captain Janeway sniffles, "maybe I don't want to understand it. But…yes. She wanted to establish communications with the Borg…because she thought it was the only way for us to get home. She tried to take over Voyager to do it. But, we stopped her. As you can see…she's in our Brig as we speak." She cuts the viewscreen to the Brig: Where a hunched over Admiral Janeway doesn't even look up. Not sure much of what to feel here, Captain Braxton figures, "I'll…return the drone to her timeframe: Rest assured. Just as soon as I get her." Captain Janeway reasons, "understood." She closes the channel…and opens another. Captain Janeway checks, "ready, Admiral?" Admiral Janeway slightly chuckles, "no: But, as far as I'm concerned…I'm already "home". Energize."

Admiral Janeway beams over to Captain Braxton's Timeship. Voyager is moving out. As Admiral Janeway looks up though…the color fades from Captain Braxton's face. With a phaser in hand, Admiral Janeway bittersweetly remarks, "Braxton, Braxton…aren't we both getting a little too old for this? Because I'd sure like to put a end to this…right now."

Around this time, on Voyager's Bridge… Chakotay checks, "any sign of trouble from the Timeship?" Harry Kim mostly assures him, "none." Captain Janeway thinks out loud, "sigh. We'll find out soon enough. Tom, take us back into the nebula…third quarter impulse." Ringing in Tom Paris's ears is his wife's words, "no buts, fly boy! If this mission is going to succeed, we need our best pilot at the helm. Heavy sigh! Don't worry: The Doctor will be here with me." Presently, Tom Paris responds to the Captain, "yes, ma'am."

In the Transwarp Hub network's nebulas… The very vacuum of space is filled with Borg cutting beams and exploding Borg Cubes. Unimatrix Zero's defenses are holding. Their former Borg neural transceivers have been enhanced with a hyperdimensional frequency bandwidth, connected through a bio-dampener network over the Unimatrix Zero movement's Cubes's Central Plexuses. Largely thanks to Admiral Janeway's expertise in Borg technology. Corridors go ablaze: With whirling Borg implant debris and dark red liquid drops. But…the Unimatrix Zero movement seems to be evenly matched for the Borg.

From Captain Janeway's Quarters…

…between the two of us…

In Captain Janeway's eyes…

From the Bridge, Captain Janeway orders, "Tuvok…deploy armor." Tuvok confirms, "deploying the ablative armor…now." Voyager's hull is being encased in expanding silvery armor bulkheads. The damaged components have been crudely mended, with some of Species 8473's electrodynamic fluid conduits. It dives into the Borg Queen's nebula…preparing to fire.

In the Borg Queen's Unicomplex… The Borg Queen pinpoints, "Voyager has altered course. Current position: Spatial grid three six two. Trajectory: One one two mark…five. Vessel of unknown origin, charging weapons. A…Timeship. We're being hailed." Double agent Magnus Hansen puts up the Borg viewscreen, acting autonomous. Onboard is what seems to be Admiral Janeway, at the controls. Borg Seven of Nine look restless, next to the stunned body of Captain Braxton: Both behind the force field.

Admiral Janeway coldly addresses, "if you value your goddamn lives…you'll stand down and allow us safe passage." The Borg Queen looks disturbingly amused, "there's something…off about you. How do I know this isn't just a deception…Admiral?" Admiral Janeway sniffles, "you don't. But...this Timeship is very real. And, you can't really picture how satisfying it would be for me to kill you."

The Borg Queen slightly laughs, "you're correct about one thing, "Admiral": I can't place it…because you're not Admiral Janeway. While we've been talking, my drones have triangulated your signal…Mariah Henley."

On the Ramuran ship… Mariah slightly chuckles coldly, "you're about to wish you didn't. Computer, deactivate interface."

Mariah Henley is sitting in the back, with a neural transceiver on her neck. It's connected to Admiral Janeway's Neural Interface Guidance System…back on Voyager. With help from some of Seven and Kellin's own modifications…the neural interface adapted accordingly to the Borg's apparent sensor readings of the Timeship. The neural transceiver cuts off. Mariah orders, "fire."

In those few minutes, with the Borg Queen's Unicomplex left without a Borg Queen to adapt by… Voyager's phasers and the Ramuran ship's proton particle beams overload its shield emitters. The Delta Flyer comes flying through it all…with a determined Seven at the Helm.

In close quarters, on Captain Braxton's real Timeship… The real Admiral Janeway bittersweetly remarks, "Braxton, Braxton…aren't we both getting a little too old for this? Because I'd sure like to put a end to this…right now." Admiral Janeway slams her phaser hard into Captain Braxton's phaser. It lands on the floor. Admiral Janeway punches at him. But, he uses his tricorder to appear a few minutes ahead of her. Captain Braxton slightly laughs, "gladly." He grabs her arm in mid-punch, slamming her into the side of the windshield. It cracks.

Admiral Janeway groans violently, her back heavily bruised. Still up against the windshield, she kicks a leg into Captain Braxton's stomach. He falls to the floor: The wind knocked out of him. His tricorder falls to the floor. In those seconds, Admiral Janeway barely picks up her phaser: Crouching over herself in sharp shooting pain. She stuns him in one shot.

Admiral Janeway mutters to his limp body, "and stay…down." Her vision is getting blurry. Her body is violently shaking quite a bit.

Suddenly, the Timeship shakes. Admiral Janeway grabs Captain Braxton's chair, struggling to stay upright.

During all of this, Borg Seven of Nine has managed to get out a Borg interlink beacon: From a taken apart part of the Timeship, behind the force field. While she was at it, she's also managed to send out tactical information of Admiral Janeway's technology: Through the Time Police's own files on her. The Borg Queen's Unicomplex has just gotten a tractor beam on the Timeship. It's being pulled in. Borg Seven of Nine mutters harshly, "resistance…is futile." She walks straight through the force field: Having assimilated enough information to adapt to it. Admiral Janeway still has one arm against the chair, freeing her other arm.

She slightly chuckles, "you'll…violent groan...thank me for this later." She fires her phaser, stunning Borg Seven of Nine squarely in the chest. All before Admiral Janeway collapses…passing out from the unbearable strain on her broken back bones. Fortunately…the USS Relativity is coming out of a temporal rift. It fires its phasers into the tractor beam, releasing the Timeship just in time.

At the doorstep of the Borg Queen's Unicomplex… Voyager and the Ramuran ship are coming about: Towards the central Transwarp Hub. Just as twenty Borg Cubes come right at them.

On the Ramuran ship… Mariah turns to Kellin, "we're getting out of here…and circling back to beam you up." Kellin slightly nods, "understood." Xana confirms, "energizing. Slight chuckle. Let's screw this junk Hub." With a slight chuckle…Kellin beams off the Ramuran ship.

Around this time, within the Borg Queen's Unicomplex… The Delta Flyer flies straight through several rows of Borg alcoves. Many Borg drones go flying into exploding Borg alcoves, lifelessly. The Delta Flyer starts burning up, sparks flying from the back. Many Borg drones jump for it, attempting to assimilate the shuttle head on. Teary eyed, Seven sighs heavily, "Seven to Beta Squad: I am in position." Kellin comes running in the Delta Flyer's direction…firing two phasers in both hands on wide spread. Most of the Borg drones gathering on the shuttle are shot down. The few left get shaken off on impact.

Over communications to Seven, Mariah says, "It's going to be goddamn close. Moderate sigh! But...we'll make it." Slightly smiling, Seven adds, "acknowledged." She then realizes the Delta Flyer is about to implode. Its transporter explodes in rubble behind her. Seven covers her head…as she jumps straight through the shattering windshield.

In range of the central Transwarp Hub… Ten Unimatrix Zero Cubes are holding off twelve of them. But…Voyager's ablative armor is getting decimated: From six Borg Tactical Cubes's cutting beams. Several electrodynamic fluid conduits are sliced off, electrodynamic fluid splattering into two Borg Tactical Cubes. They short circuit in minutes.

On Voyager's Bridge… Tuvok reports lowly, "ablative armor is failing. If we don't…!" Captain Janeway insists intently, "we'll make it." Ruptures are beginning to form…across all the decks. Everyone's getting frayed nerves. Harry Kim reports, "hull breaches on Decks six through twelve!" Chakotay checks, "how far is the nearest aperture?" Tom Paris points out nervously, "twenty seconds. If we don't…! Slight chuckle. Well, I'll be damned." Species 8473's Terrasphere comes flying in…from one of the Transwarp Hub apertures. It fires electrodynamic blasts…obliterating thousands of the Borg fleet's vessels. Over communcations, Species 8473 Beverly Crusher slightly smiles, "are we too late for the reception?" Harry Kim figures, "actually…you got here just in time."

Not long after… Two remaining Borg Cubes are going after the Ramuran ship…their cutting beams piercing through its warp drive. Xana reports, "we're venting drive…!" Smoke is closing in. Sparks go flying. Suddenly, a console blows out. And, Mariah is sent flying: Burned on her side…and motionless. Teary eyed, Xana gasps, "Mariah!" Over communications, Captain Janeway says, "stay right where you are! We're beaming you out of there."

Not far off, in the Borg Queen's Unicomplex… The Borg Queen mutters, "no!" Most of the Unicomplex is going up in flame. Thousands of Borg drones burn. The Unicomplex is crashing down…for the Transwarp Hub network. In that second…Magnus Hansen punches the Borg Queen down. He slightly smiles, "yes: It ends now." The Borg Queen gets up furiously, tackling Magnus Hansen against a Borg alcove. Seven tumbles to her feet…right into the same chamber. She clutches her aching legs: Fairly shaken, even with her Borg like strength.

Over combadge, Kellin starts saying, "Kellin to Mariah..." Over communications, Captain Janeway sniffles, "I'm…afraid we're running out of time. Prepare for emergency beam out."

Magnus Hansen rams his knee into the Borg Queen, knocking her off balance. But, she's about to deliver a final blow: Even in the face of her own death. Seven mutters hatefully, "you've…underestimated me." She coldly snaps the surprised Borg Queen's neck. The Borg Queen falls into a flaming piece of floor. Seven, Magnus, and Kellin are beamed up directly to the Bridge: Seconds away from a flaming death.

Not long after… The rest of the Borg fleets are decimated: By Unimatrix Zero's two million Cubes and Species 8473's Terrasphere. All across the entire Transwarp Hub network. All while the Borg Queen's Unicomplex explodes into the core of the network.

Voyager is going straight through a Transwarp Hub aperture: Seconds before the entire network explodes…in a brilliantly bittersweet nebulous orange light. And up ahead is Earth….with Starfleet Command's fleet ready to welcome Voyager's crew home.

From Captain Janeway's Quarters…

Slight chuckle. I'm fairly confident we can change our fates. The fates of those in our family, on Voyager. And…the fates of billions. End log.


	18. Season 7: Endgame(Side C)

Starrider: A Star Trek Voyager Fanfiction Story Collection

Endgame(Side C):

Side C(Epilogue)

The next day…

Voyager's crew is finally home…mostly. There's a memorial service for Mariah Carey: Who wished not to be given a traditional Starfleet funeral. But, Species 8473 and their babies have come out unscathed. So has Miral.

In the formation of the new timeline… Admiral Janeway has vanished from Captain Braxton's Timeship. But, in great reluctance…the Time Police has decided not to change it. It was unanimously agreed upon that it would be far worse for the Borg to fully assimilate knowledge of their Timeships…than to let the new timeline play out. A Lieutenant Braxton from another time was forced to retire, for his other self's "aggressive" actions. But, not before returning Borg Seven of Nine to her own time. Though, as a gesture of goodwill from another Captain Duncane…Captain Braxton's being transferred to head of 29th century Starfleet Intelligence.

Three days later…

A wooden casket is being slowly lowered: Into a Federation satellite, in orbit of a planet called Solsos III. It's being lowered from Voyager itself. Though, if it wasn't for four hundred kilograms of sickly green Trilithium resin in Solsos III's atmosphere…it would be held on the rocky surface. It was a planet with a Maquis colony: Where Mariah Henley was stationed for a time, before joining Chakotay's Maquis crew.

That was before it became rendered uninhabitable in 2373: By a certain Captain by the name of Benjamin Sisko, against a Maquis leader by the name of Michael Eddington. But…this was five years ago. Maquis leaders are now few and far in between. And one way or another…most have been pardoned for crimes against the Cardassian people. Consequently, Chakotay's Voyager-Maquis crew has been freed of all charges…along with most of the Maquis.

Under a infamous Cardassian Gul by the name of Dukat…the Cardassian-Dominion alliance gave rise to the Dominion War. The waves of death were felt by all in the Federation. The Cardassians felt it worse of all. They remain a endangered people: Unaffiliated to any side, in their struggle to regain a future for their people. The Federation was nearly torn apart at the seams. But, despite several glaring decisions over the years… The Federation remains strong. Today… Voyager's crew signifies that strength. Here at Solsos III: Here…at Mariah Henley's memorial.

Captain Janeway, Admiral Paris, Tom Paris, Libby, Chakotay, Kes, K'Elanna, Neelix, B'Elanna… All are standing there: In crammed airlocks, facing the casket. Silent, in their respects. Or at least…trying to in their respects. Tears fall. Some sobs seem to just echo into space. But deep down, they all know…that they can go on. They know that hope is here with them…even in the face of death. Because 119 crewmembers…both Maquis and Starfleet…made it home: Together…as one family.

That night, in Admiral Paris's office…

Admiral Paris sits there…at his desk. The office has a cold stiffness about it. Silently teary eyed, Admiral Paris looks to the picture on his desk: Of his son Tom Paris.

In his desk drawer is a picture, usually hidden from the public eye. But now…he can't help but pull it out. It's of his lost brother, with blondish unruly hair and a raggy old overcoat. He was Colnam Paris: The drunk of the family. A womanizer. Even long before his drunk death…at the front of a hovercar… Admiral Paris's family never cared for him no more. Except Admiral Paris.

He turns to his computer. And, under a classified and buried file called Project Shooting Star…he finds a letter. One which he hasn't been able to refine all the words for…until tonight. He writes out the final draft, as follows:

I swore you'd never be like him. Easier to promise it…than to look out for you. He was Colnam Paris…my very disturbed brother. You weren't even born, when he died. But…he reminded me so much of you. Of what you could become…if you didn't sharpen up. But…how could you know him? How could I tell you? I didn't know how. Damn it all! I may still not know. But, I'm trying…harder. To listen. Slight chuckle. That's something in itself.

One of my deepest regrets in all of this that the Starfleet Administration had to learn that lesson…in a very hard way. Even after we thought the dust had settled from the Dominion…there was a war. It was only in recent months fully declassified. So, I suppose you deserve to know.

Public opinion throughout the Federation was calling for the Federation Council's resignations. Because of alarmingly questionable decisions made for the past nine to three years. The cited incidents included the Federation-Klingon War, the disturbingly ill conceived attempt to relocate the Ba'ku under Admiral Matthew Dougherty and the Son'a…and several others too extensive to go into.

But the most disturbing incident of all came from Admiral Hayes, of all people. He went so far as to stage a little coup "to bring order to the mess that Starfleet Command and the Federation Council has helped make." It included personally replacing me on the Pathfinder Project with himself. Admiral Hayes was caught and forced to retire. Though, needless to say… Sigh. It was a public relations nightmare. We could barely dust ourselves off, let alone command.

It was only in the last year that we made any lasting progress in it all. The Federation Council subsided into a Starfleet Supreme Court. And, for the most part…things have been rather uneventful for Starfleet Command. I'm just glad you weren't caught up in it. No. Sigh! That wasn't what really I meant to say.

I'm also very glad that Kathryn Janeway gave you that guidance you deserved…which I was evidently ill equipped to give to you. That is what most of Starfleet Administration could all learn a thing or two from...I'm sorry to say. I wish we could have been all ears. I wish I could have been all ears with you. Slight sniffle. I only wanted what was best for you. Maybe then you wouldn't have been incarcerated. Maybe then you wouldn't have had to be stranded in the Delta Quadrant… Just to prove yourself to me.

Sigh. I can't change the past. Frankly, I don't think anyone can. For seven years…I sure haven't forgotten it. But, if it does in some small way mean anything to you now…I'm sorry. And, I'm proud of how far you've come.

Signed,

Admiral Paris.

In the course of six weeks…

In Tom Paris's eyes… He see flashes of himself shaking hands with his father Admiral Paris: Something he thought would be "when hell froze over and back." But, with his letter to him…they've started talking more. Lowering down the walls they fortified against each other.

Like B'Elanna with her mother Miral…who's now part of the Klingon monastery in Boreth. With their cold tempers "that can make you feel like the Barge of the Dead is coming to claim your soul." He's kidding…mostly. With B'Elanna's relationship being admittedly "more honorable than she was with her father", Miral is finally growing to accept B'Elanna. They may not still respect each other…but they don't hate each other either. And as far as both of them are concerned, that's enough.

And, from time to time…he and B'Elanna have even been able to keep their walls lowered enough to visit their parents.

In Captain Janeway's eyes… She sees flashes of a grayer Mark Johnson: Awkwardly meeting her again with a uneasy hand. But, it wasn't out of her wishes…for she very much respected him going on with his life. And, it still is that way: Sort of. Mark has been happily married for years. But, he hasn't been all too happy about it either. They may both be seeing other people. But…that's made it all the less awkward to reaccept each other as friends. Even if he finds her relationship to take "a lot of getting used to". Because, despite Mark letting go of the past… His own wife has known it's been slowly killing him. And, she wanted him to be at peace with it.

In a very similar twist of fate… She has thankfully been give permission to visit her Irish Settler Molly in her final years.

In the EMH Doctor's eyes… He sees flashes of a very appreciated gift, given to him by Captain Janeway. It's a gray commemoration plaque, engraved with the ruling on Stardate 42527.4 that gave Commander Data and others like him the right to choose.

And, flashes of his first holo-novel: Of the EMH Doctor's. It's for a certain planned trilogy called Photons Be Free: Written by him, co-edited by Captain Janeway. But, in this version… The Nacene Caretaker is at war with the Q...because of setting out to usher in "a universal peace that can be felt throughout all of existence". In his own holodeck…the EMH Doctor smiles at his royal screw you to the "so-called holier than thou omniscience" of the Q Continuum. What he doesn't see is the mischievous Q in the stars…smiling back at him and his craft.

In Seven's eyes… She sees flashes of Naomi making plans to enroll in Starfleet Academy eight years later, when she's fourteen. Of Naomi reading every declassified Starfleet report she can get her hands on, in hopes of being "the first Starfleet officer to become Captain in a year." She thinks Naomi "lacks some precision" and that she should "hang out with other individuals her own age". But, for the most part, she can certainly respect her wishes.

There's many a time when she's decided not to tell Samantha Wildman and her husband Greskrendtregk about it…who have reunited. Because, she knew Samantha Wildman would be very concerned for Naomi's well being. Naomi is growing up as her own person…and that's worth all the difference to her: To Seven, as well as to most of her crewmates from Voyager.

In B'Elanna's eyes… She sees flashes of herself carrying baby Miral: In her arms, around her and Tom Paris's bright yellow cottage in Marseilles. Which isn't far off from the real Chez Sandrine, ironically so.

And, flashes of her becoming director of the development team for Chronexaline: At a Marseilles Starfleet research satellite facility, for Starfleet Research and Development. Through studying the inner workings of the EMH Doctor's mobile emitter, it's expected to "pay off" in several years. Stationed here too is Tom Paris, who is the test pilot for new developments towards a working slipstream drive. On their lunch hours, they tend to get very intimate under "the savory glow of the drive-in movie screen"…while everyone else is too busy eating in the cafeteria anyway to notice them making out in the holodeck test simulator.

In the relative present…

The rain comes down…hard over Chez Sandrine. Hard over its gold and blue glass windows, looking into the darkly lit bar counter. At the counter is Harry Kim: In his very cold and drenched Starfleet undershirt, looking even worse for wear…and drinking a glass of beer. A familiar voice says, "Harry?" Tom Paris wears a jet black jacket, like Captain Proton's. A sharp yellow undershirt is seen under it. Kind of drunk, Harry Kim slightly chuckles, "surprised?" Tom Paris comments nervously, "surprised…doesn't begin to cover it. You literally vanished off the face of the Earth. What the hell happened, Harry?!"

Harry Kim barely puts down his glass, shivering like he was just floating in space. As though it was obvious, Harry Kim recollects, "Jenny happened: Jenny Delaney. Hard sigh! I should've known she wouldn't take no for a answer." Tom Paris tries to get a straight answer, "what "what" are we even talking about here?" Harry Kim mutters coldly, "here. Just… Here." He plops a very crumpled up piece of paper onto the counter. Tom Paris takes it, uncrumpling it.

It's a letter…from Libby. Tom Paris starts reading it, "was my love just not good enough for…? Oh, shit." Harry Kim goes on, "and that's not even the worst part. She… She tried to seduce me, Tom." Not sure what else he can say, Tom Paris lowly says, "my god. Did she…?!" Harry Kim sniffles, "no. Thankfully. I tried to find Libby...to get help. But… Sniffle! She was already long gone. I had to get away. So, I stowed away on the first ocean liner I could find…to come here. To ask…why. Why did we ever date the Delaney sisters, Tom? Why?!"

Harry Kim has another round, hoping it'd stop the tears begging to come out of him. Struggling to find the words, Tom Paris says out loud, "I guess… Heavy sigh. I guess I thought it was a pretty good idea at the time. It was a terrible mistake. And…I'm sorry." Harry Kim puts down the glass. The shivering is calming down a bit, just from the room temperature. Tom Paris reflects, "but, for the sake of argument… Slight chuckle. You sure she didn't have the dimple?" Harry Kim mutters back, "that isn't funny, Tom." Tom Paris figures seriously, "just trying to find a bright side to all of this is all. I didn't mean anything by it."

Harry Kim concludes, "ok." He's about to reach for his glass. But, Tom Paris slightly puts it off to the side. He urges, "I have a better idea. Come on." He gives Harry Kim his jacket to keep warm, and helps him out of Chez Sandrine's.

Slightly shivering still, Harry Kim looks doubtful, "this is… Cough! Isn't another "pretty good idea"?" Tom Paris mostly assures him, "that was when I didn't have a wife of my own to think about…not to mention a baby. I'll do better. I'll call Starfleet Medical, and you'll be "good as new". As for Jenny… Well, let's just say she's about to get used to having bread and water for a good long while." Harry Kim heavily sighs, "good as new? Where could I go, Tom?"

Solemnly, Tom Paris points out, "you're drunk, Harry. It'll all come back to you. Just…trust me." He gets Harry Kim to the front door of his cottage. Tom Paris opens the door for him, leading him into the calm darkness of the cottage.

The shadow of Tom Paris and B'Elanna's TV set is across the living room…under a glass window. Past it is a mantelpiece…with a little gold book with a lock on it. It has many addresses of women he found out about in Chez Sandrine, in his Academy years. Most of them have changed since. But, among the many addresses…there's one that hasn't changed by much. Her name is written out as simply Lana, in the little gold book. But…it's a name that will soon have a very large impact on Harry Kim's life.

Eleven days later…

Harry Kim looks much more together: In the morning light of a new day on the Greek Islands, and in a mostly black thinly dark red striped shirt. He goes up to the footsteps of a marble white Greek temple…where he first lays eyes on Lana. She wears a marble white formal dress…held up with half hoops and hoops. Her long parted golden brown hair and gold earring buds glisten in the sun light. After some awkward pause…they introduce themselves. Lana warmly says, "it's all right. My looks don't kill." Harry Kim slightly chuckles nervously, "thanks. So…it's just the two of us?"

Lana figures assuringly, "I'm sure. Though…you might find me to be very flexible with that sort of thing." She lies against one of the pillars, in a very flashing way. Harry Kim barely catches his sense of calm in her presence. He slightly smiles politely, "may I ask in what way?" Lana slightly smiles back, "get the pleasure to know me very well, and you're bound to find out. Now, how about we start our "little" tour?" Not sure what else to say besides the obvious, Harry Kim says, "sounds great." He and Lana start strolling together: Down the temple, down the gray mountainside...and into each other's hearts.

In the course of four months…

In Harry Kim's eyes… He sees flashes of himself with Lana, going to a secluded lunar colony for some fancy parties "behind closed doors". Where both men and women of various races have been coming for "pleasure behind closed doors". That most of the Federation would much rather be lost seven years in the Delta Quadrant than to see. But…he doesn't shy away from Lana. Even with the pants and panties off…he doesn't run. Because, he finds himself to be able to be "completely himself" around her…without worries of who's cheating on who.

And, flashes of applying to Starfleet Command school: Where he's very much following in the footsteps of a future. Where he's becoming captain of the Matrix class USS Rhode Island. But…happily so.

In Mister Harren's eyes… He sees flashes of being accepted into the Orion Institute of Cosmology. Not as a student…but as possibly the youngest professor in Starfleet history. Because of his seven years of hands-on experience and thorough astronomical papers in the Delta Quadrant. Plus, three to four months of putting it in practice to his duty shifts in Astrometrics: On Voyager.

He's come a long way "since discovering himself to be impure"…earning him the respect of many on Voyager's crew. Even from Tuvok, K'Elanna, Kes, and Marla Gilmore: To name a few. With their practices of keeping their emotions away "from their work", Marla Gilmore has become Mister Harren's closest friend. And, with a heavy heart…Captain Janeway shakes his hand. As Mister Harren heads for his future: For the Orion Institute of Cosmology.

In Tuvok's eyes… He sees flashes of finally reuniting with his wife and children on Vulcan. Of T'Pel's meditation and prayer for his safe return finally being answered. Of finally being able to "comfort them with his logic", in person.

He's come to realize that he has "a strong dissatisfaction with not being able to be there for them, when they had great need of his logic to guide them." He's also cited the glaringly questionable decisions of Starfleet Administration, as another "strong dissatisfaction" he has. That he wasn't able to "be there for his most esteemed colleagues, when they had great need of his logic to guide them."

Tuvok has resigned from Starfleet. Though…not entirely from the Federation. He's becoming a member of the Starfleet Supreme Court: To "assist in upholding Starfleet principles for everyone in the Federation"…as well as for his family and his closest colleagues. Without having to leave them for very long ever again.

In Chakotay's eyes… He sees flashes of seeing Icheb, just before he heads off to Starfleet Academy. For a night on the town…for his "last chance to take in the finest human culture has to offer." Chakotay was half joking with Icheb, of course. Though, in his own right…he's becoming a very well rounded teenager.

And, flashes of submitting himself willingly as a spy for Starfleet Intelligence: Along with his lover Kellin. In the hope of saving billions of Federation lives "from any more massacres before they can even occur": Like in the Federation colonies in the Demilitarized Zone, at the hands of Cardassian brutality. Or, the Federation's staggeringly grave losses on multiple fronts…at the hands of the Dominion. Most notably, together…he and Kellin have uncovered a coup d'etat plot by Praetor Shinzon: A ruthless clone of Captain Picard created the Tal Shiar, intended to replace him by slowly taking control of Starfleet for them.

Though, that was before their alliance with the Federation in the Dominion War: Which complicated that plan, to say the least. He was bald by a birth defect, and originally discarded as defective: To a group of genetically experimented on Romulan slaves called Remans. Shinzon rose up quickly to the front lines of the Dominion War…wanting to prove himself as "the better Picard".

Though…he has recently fallen from the front lines just as quickly: Because of Chakotay and Kellin. Because of his assassination attempt on the Romulan Senate found out, a year before he could bring it to fruition.

In a rather morbid sense of gratitude, the Tal Shiar suddenly have become more open to peace negotiations with the Federation. And, despite very wary attitudes from both sides… The feeling seems to be surprisingly mutual: From both Starfleet and the Tal Shiar.

In Seven's eyes… She sees flashes of billions of Unimatrix Zero civilians, returning to their homeworlds. Despite being regarded as a plague by most… The fallout of the Dominion War lingers more strongly in the hearts of the Federation, than their prejudice of Borg drones. It brings a tear to her eye, thinking of how it was possible that "a collective as vast and efficiently formed as the Federation could come close to ruin in a matter of years".

However… Korok has become the Fleet Admiral of a Unimatrix Zero fleet, helping the Federation get a hundred civilizations get back on their feet. Including the Klingons. And, that's just to start. In the next three years, Matrix class starships are expected to be ready for Starfleet: Largely inspired by Icheb's own designs. Which has him already being considered for Starfleet Command School.

And, flashes of her father Magnus having become head of the construction group in charge of building them. But, he visits her sometimes…to "rekindle the precious time they lost" between father and daughter.

In the meanwhile, she's taking shore leave of a few years worth "saved for such a momentous occasion": To experience life's "best qualities" with Xana, on a trip around the world. And, she is getting prepared for a command of her own: On the first Matrix Class starship, named the USS Khitomer. She's even filed a personal request for Xana to become her operations officer and second officer.

And through the piercingly chilling eyes of ISS Xana… Out in the chilling vastness of the Delta Quadrant… There's a legion of Silver Blood coated android replicas, shrouded in fog. They're of ISS Xana, ISS Joe Carey, Commander Data's evil twin brother Lore back from the scrap head…and a evil android replica of Tasha Yar herself of Lore's own creation. Quite possibly the ultimate Nemesis for Captain Janeway and Captain Picard: An embodiment of revenge itself. In the year 2379.

Twenty four years or so later…

It's before the Great Hall, on the Klingon homeworld Qo'nos. Miral has been expecting this honor for several years. But, in her new Klingon armor…she feels nervous. Though, she hides it under a sly smile.

Klingon Chancellor Martok has died honorably in his "weakening". Against the Borg…Supreme Commander Worf has died in honor. And, Worf's Klingon-human grown son Alexander has taken his place: With help from Worf and Martok's guidance over the years, in the Klingon ways. Now, Klingon Chancellor Alexander sits in his dark gray chair: Calmly facing Miral.

The House of Martok no longer takes part in feuds…and so has become a neutral Klingon house. It's no longer considered a great House. But, it has a high reputation of resolving feuds and appointing Klingons in high places. This time is no different. And yet in many ways…it is.

In a calm but firm tone, Alexander says, "Miral, daughter of B'Elanna Torres. Do you accept the prestigious honor of Supreme Commander, for the glory of the Empire?" Out loud, Miral answers firmly, "I do." Alexander offers her Worf's bat'leth. Miral kneels before it, taking it in her hands. She rises to face Alexander once more. Alexander slightly smiles, "may we honor the names of our mothers and fathers. For whatever journey we take for ourselves…we are at heart Klingon. Just as our mothers and fathers are at heart Klingon." With the bat'leth at her side, Miral slightly chuckles, "I bet you say that to all the Klingons."

Alexander figures, "actually…they are the words I live by. It's not for all Klingon ears: If you know my meaning." Miral smiles back, "I do now. Thank you...Alexander." And with that, she starts heading to her new post: Into the future.

**The End…Or the Start of Another Journey for Voyager's crew?**

**Please Feel Free To Comment On Or Continue This Storyline**


End file.
